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NEW- YORK. 
GEO. F. COOLEDGE& GRO. . 





THE LIFE 



OP 



GENERAL LAFAYETTE. 



BY WILLIAM CUTTER. 



" A NOBLE character which will flourish in the annals of the worid, and live 
in the veneration of posterity, when kings, and the crowns they wear, %^all be no 
more regarded than the dust to which they must return."— Charles Jajies Fox. 

" Liberty will ultimately be established in the old as well as in the new world ; 
and then, the history of our revolutions will put all things, and all persons, in 
their proper places." — Lafayette. 



• • i * • * 



NEW YORK: 

GEORGE F. COOLEDGE & BROTHER, 

PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS, 



323 PEARL STREET. 












Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1849, 

By GEORGE F. COOLEDGE & BROTHER, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for 

the Southern District of New York. 



STEFr,(?XyFED BY C, p^^S^V^GE, 



1 



r 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH AND EARLT HISTORY OF LAFAYETTE. 

His Parentage. — Education and Position in Society. — School-boy Rem- 
iniscences. — Noticed at Court. — Receives a Commission in the Ar- 
my. — Refuses to court Royal Favor. — Early Marriage. — Offends 
Count de Provence page 9 

CHAPTER ir. 
NOBLE CONMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 
The American Revolution. — Lafayette's sudden Zeal in the Cause. — 
Firm Resolve and prompt Action. — Interposition of Friends. — Bai'on 
de Kalb. — SUas Deane. — Secret Arrangements. — Startling News 
from America. — Noble Disinterestedness of Lafayette. — His Visit 
to England. — Prepares to embark for America. — Sends bis Vessel 
. to Spain. — FoUovrs it in Disguise. — Narrow Escape from Arrest. — 
DiflBculties of the Voyage 18 

CHAPTER in. 
FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 
Hospitable Reception by Major Huger. — Journey to Philadelphia. — 
A Crisis in American Affairs. — Presents his Letters to Congress. — 
Offers to serve as a Volunteer. — Liberality to his Comrades. — Intro- 
duction to Washington. — First Impressions of the Army. — Battle 
of Brandywine. — Lafayette wounded. — Sent to Bethlehem. — Kind- 
ness of the Moravians. — Correspondence 29 

CHAPTER IV. 

GALLANT SERVICES REWARDED. — LAFAYETTE COMMANDER-IN- 
CHIEF OF THE NORTHERN ARMY. 

Lafayette commands a Detaclmaent at Gloucester Point. — Receives 
the Command of a Division. — Conway's Cabal. — Lafayette appoint- 
ed to the Command in the North. — Plans of the Expedition. — Jour- 
ney to Albany. — Discouragement?s. — New Plans contemplated. — 
His disinterested Zeal. — Is recalled. — His Policy in reference to 
the Northern Indians. — Conference with them at Johnson's Town. 
Adopted by them as a Chief 43 



4 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 
FRENCH ALLIANCE. — BARREN HILL. — MONMOUTH. 

Encampment at Valley Forge. — Position and Policy of France. — Pop- 
ular feeling in favor of America. — Treaty with France. — Encoura- 
ging Prospects. — Lafayette at Barren Hill. — Masterly Manojuvring 
and Retreat. — Lord North's Proposals for Conciliation. — Philadel- 
phia evacuated by the British. — Battle of Monmouth . . .55 

CHAPTER VL 
Lafayette's services in rhode island. — his return to 

FRANCE. 

Proposed Attack on Newport. — Lafayette detached to support Sulli- 
van. — Plan of Attack. — Count d'Estaing offended. — British Fleet in 
the Offing. — The Count goes out to offer Battle. — Unfoitunate Con- 
sequences of this Movement. — Sullivan reinforced. — Difficulty with 
the French Admiral. — Siege of Newport raised. — Lafayette in Bos- 
ton. — Further incidents at Newport. — Lafayette returns to Phila- 
delphia. — Carlisle's Letter. — The Writer challenged by Lafayette. 
— Lafayette proposes to return to France. — His severe lUness at 
FishkUl. — His Recovery and Embai'kation 72 

CHAPTER VIL 

Lafayette's influence and usefulness in france. — his 
second voyage to america. 

Lafayette under An-est. — His Position at Court. — His Influence in be- 
half of America. — Proposed Invasion of England. — Sword presented 
to Lafayette by Franklin. — Proposed Invasion and Independence 
of Ireland. — Procures Aid for America, and returns. — Invested with 
the Command of the Vanguard of the Army.— Happy Effect of 
French Succors. — Proposed Attack on New York . . . .90 

CHAPTER VIIL 

Arnold's treason. — lafayette in Virginia. 

Washington and Lafayette on the Way to West Point. — Arnold's 
Treason brought to Light. — Plans for Attacking the Enemy's Posts. 
Greene in Command of the Southern Department. — Lafayette 
wishes to join him. — Delays and Hinderances. — Arnold in Virginia. 
— Lafayette ordered to oppose him. — Adventures and Efforts. — Ar- 
nold reinforced. — Lafayette ordered to join Greene. — Difficulties 
nobly surmounted. — Baltimore Volunteers. — Lafayette at Rich- 
mond.' — Ravages of the British. — Baron Steuben. — The Two Ar- 
mies. — Comwallis moving Northward. — Death of General Phillips . 108 



CONTENTS. 5 

CHAPTER IX. 

LAFAYETTE AND CORNWALLIS, OR "THE BOY " AND THE 

VETERAN. 

Comwallis at Petersburg. — The " Boy-General." — Marches and Coun- 
termarches. — Lafayette protects Albemarle. — A Trap. — Wayne 
drawn into it. — Rescued by Lafayette. — Comwallis takes Post at 
Yorktown. — Count de Grasse in the Chesapeake. — Washington in 
Virginia. — Siege of Yorktown. — Comwallis surrenders. — Militaiy 
Courtesies 121 

CHAPTER X. 

NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 
Prospects of Peace. — Lafayette prepares to return to France. — Ap- 
pointed Field-Marshal in the Army. — A new Enterprise. — Peace. 
— Diplomacy in Spain. — Commercial Treaty with France . .140 

CHAPTER XL 
VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1784. 
Reception at New York — Philadelphia — Moxmt Vernon. — Influence 
with the Northern Indians. — Visit to New England — Virginia. — In- 
teresting Meeting at Richmond. — Surrenders his Commission at 
Trenton. — Anecdote of his Liberality . . ... 153 

CHAPTER XIL 

DOIMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 

Efforts to benefit American Commerce. — Civic Honors. — Plans and 
Efforts for Negro Emancipation. — Travelling on the Continent. — 
Reception at Vienna. — Grand Review at Potsdam. — Frederick the 
Great. — Meeting with old Friends and old Enemies. — Opinions. — 
Efforts in behalf of Protestants 162 

CHAPTER XIIL 

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

Its Causes. — Assembly of Notables. — Lafayette demands a National 
Assembly. — Agitating Debates. — Boldness and Independence of 
Lafayette. — Resistance of the Court. — Mirabeau. — Decision and 
Triumph of the People 172 

CHAPTER XIV. 
PROGRESS OF THE REVOLUTION. — THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 
New Measures of Intimidation. — Lafayette's " Declaration of Rights." 
— Necker dismissed. — The Bastile demolished. — The King re- 
treats. — Lafayette in Paris. — Commands the National Guard. — Es- 

1* 



6 CONTENTS. 

corts the King to Paris.— The Tricolored Cockade.— Refuses the 
Supreme Command. — Scenes of Violence. — Resigns his Command. 
— Is persuaded to resume it. — His elevated Position . . . 189 

CHAPTER XV. 
MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 

Call for the King at Paris. — Famine. — A Mob of Women. — Their 
March to Versailles. — Lafayette follows. — His Plans thwarted. — 
The Palace attacked. — The Clueen's Danger. — Influence and Suc- 
cess of Lafayette. — Escorts the King to Paris. — Parties in France . 210 

CHAPTER XVL 
THE REVOLUTION. — THE FEDERATION. — FLIGHT OF THE KING. 
Plots and Rumors. — Mirabeau attaches himself to the Court. — Popu- 
larity of Lafayette. — The Festival of the Federation. — Exti-act from 
Carlyle. — Honors to Lafayette. — His Modesty and Moderation. — 
Plots and Counterplots. — The King leaves Paris secretly. — Pursued 
and brought back. — Lafayette resigns his Command and retires . 227 

CHAPTER XVIL 

THREATENED INVASION OF FRANCE. — LAFAYETTE COMMANDS 

THE ARMY. 
War. — Lafayette at Metz. — Rochambeau and Luckner. — Attempt 
upon Belgium. — The Issue. — Lafayette addresses a Letter to the 
Assembly. — Goes to Paris. — Appears before the Assembly. — Re- 
turns to the Army. — Attempt to withdraw the King from Paris . 253 

CHAPTER XVIIL 

THE REIGN OF TERROR. 
Lafayette denounced by the Jacobins. — The King deposed and im- 
prisoned. — Commissioners sent to the Army. — Their Arrest. — Pro- 
posals. — Luckner. — Decree of the Assembly. — Lafayette in a Di- 
lemma.— His Fhght 268 

CHAPTER XIX. 

CAPTIVITY. — MAGDEBOURG. — OLMUTZ. 

Lafayette applies for a Passport and is an-ested. — Ins.ulting Propo- 
sals. — Attempted Assassination. — Transferred from Prison to Pris- 
on. — Severe Treatment. — SuflFerings. — Olmutz. — Its Position and 
Appointments 279 

CHAPTER XX. 

ADVENTURE OF BOLLMANN AND HUGER. 

Plans of Dr. BoUmann to effect the Release of Lafayette. — Discovers 
him at Olmutz. — Associates himself with Huger. — Ingenious and 



CONTENTS. / 

bold Attempt to rescue the Prisoner. — Lafayette retaken. — Boll- 
mami and Huger imprisoned 291 

CHAPTER XXI. 

PRISON INCIDENTS AT OLMUTZ. 

Madame Lafayette and Daughters in Prison. — Liberated. — They 
hasten to Oknutz. — Share the Captivity of Lafayette. — Employ- 
ments. — The privoL — Felix and Jules. — Illness of Madame Lafay- 
ette. — Harsh Treatment of the Emperor. — Efforts in behalf of the 
Prisoners. — Letterfrom W ashington. — Masclet. — Fitzpatrick. — Fox 299 

CHAPTER XXIL 

RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 

Napoleon demands his Release. — Promises. — Delays. — Romeuf sent 
to Viemia. — Secures his Object. — Arrangements for the Reception 
of the Prisoners at Hamburg. — The Prison Doors opened. — The 
Journey. — Meeting of Friends. — Correspondence. — Debts of Grati- 
tude. — Legacies 314 

CHAPTER XXIIL 

TWO YEARS IN EXILE. — RETURNS TO FRANCE. 

Domestic Retreat in Holstein. — Proceeds to Uti-echt. — Obstacles to 
his Return to France. — Anarchy. — Intrigue. — Frankness and Bold- 
ness of Lafayette. — Bonaparte in Paris. — The Consulate. — Lafay- 
ette goes to Paris. — Bonaparte displeased. — Dignified Course of 
Lafayette 325 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

HIS RELATIONS WITH NAPOLEON. 

Napoleon's Respect for Lafayette. — Their Interviews. — Opinions. — 
Lafayette nominated to the Senate. — Offered an Embassy to the 
United States. — Resigns his Commission in the Army. — Retires to 
Lagrange. — Death of his Wife. — Restoration of the Bourbons. — The 
Hundred Days. — The Second Restoration 336 

CHAPTER XXV. 

VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1824. 

Embarkation. — Reception. — Joseph Bonaparte. — Tomb of Washing- 
ton. — Yorktown. — Charleston. — Kaskaskia. — Indian Stoiy. — A Snag 
in the Ohio. — Red Jacket — Bunker Hill Monument — Adieus. — 
Departure ............ 358 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXVL 

REVOLUTION OF 1830. 
Despotic Tendencies of the Courtof France.— Lafayette in the Cham- 
ber of Deputies.— His Journey to Auvergne— Civic Honors and 
Triumphs.— Chagrin of the Com-t.— Despotic Ordinances of Charles 
X.— Agitation in Paris.— Lafayette solicited to take Command of 
the National Guard.— The Three Days of July.— Charles X. de- 
posed.— The Duke of Orleans proposed as Lieutenant-General of 
France. — The People reluctant to receive him. — His Promises . 372 

CHAPTER XXVIL 
KEIGN OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 
Meeting of the Chamber of Deputies.— Louis Philippe proclaimed 
King of the French.— Lafayette Commander-in-chief of the Na- 
tional Guard.— Review.— PoUtical Offenders.— Chief Magistracy of 
Belgium offered to Lafayette.— General Agitation in Europe.— 
Trial of the Bx-Ministers.— Lafayette insulted.— Resigns his Com- 
mand. — Remonstrates with the King 387 

CHAPTER XXVIIL 

CLOSING SCENES AND DEATH. 
Funeral of General Lamarque.— Enthusiasm of the People.— Conflict 
with the Royal Troops. — Lafayette withdraws his Confidence from 
the King.— Exposure— Illness— Death.— Character . . . .400 



THE LIFE 



OF 



GENERAL LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 



The characters of public men belong to the world. 
They who come voluntarily forth, or, by the guiding hand 
of Providence are led forth, from the retired walks of 
domestic life, to mingle in the strife of events, and exert 
a moulding influence on communities and nations, are 
amenable, for their actions, and the principles of their 
conduct, at the bar of human society. Even the secret 
motives which sway their decisions, and the disturbing 
influences which sometimes turn them aside from their 
direct courses, are legitimate subjects of scrutiny and 
animadversion. And the lessons which may be derived 
from such scrutiny, are the most valuable patrimony 
which one generation of men can leave to its successors. 

In estimating character, however, reference should 
always be had to the circumstances in which it was de- 
veloped, and the influences by which it was surrounded. 
The principles of morality are fixed and unchangeable. 
But the admiration or censure which is bestowed upon 
individuals, is justly graduated to the scale of their own 
times, rather than to that of their censors. " According 



10 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not," 
is the governing maxim of an impartial and unerring 
Judge. They who stand forth, at the present moment, 
as " burning and shining lights," do so, perhaps, only be- 
cause they are somewhat in advance of the prevalent 
virtue of the age, and not because they have attained to 
" the fulness of the stature of perfect men." Posterity, 
looking down from loftier vantage-ground, may lament 
their weakness, and marvel at the narrowness of their 
views, and their obliquities of faith and practice, even as 
we now do at those of the saints and the sages, the heroes 
and the martyrs of by-gone ages, of whom, notwith- 
standing, " the world was not worthy." 

To such considerations as these, regard should always 
be had, in reviewing the characters of history. And, if 
they demand, in some cases, the mantle of charity for 
unexpected errors, they equally exact, in others, extra- 
ordinary awards of admiration for surprising merit, and 
for virtue that stands out in bold relief amid all surround- 
ing degeneracy. 

" No country in Europe," says Mr. Everett, " had re- 
tained more of the feudal divisions, than France, before 
the Revolution. A partition of the orders of society, 
but little less rigid than the Oriental economy of castes, 
was kept up. Causes which time would fail us to develop, 
had rendered the court and capital of France signally 
corrupt, during the last century. It is doubtful, whether, 
in a civilized state, the foundations of social morality 
were ever so totally subverted. It was by no means one 
of the least active causes of this corruption, that all con- 
nexion between the court and the capital, and the higher 
ranks in general, on the one hand, and the people on the 
other, was cut off by the constitution of society, and the 
hopeless depression, degradation, and ignorance of the 
mass of the people. Under these influences, a new gen- 



BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 11 

eration was trained. They did not make, they found the 
coiTuption. They were reared in it. They grew up in 
the presence and under the patronage of a most dissolute 
court, surrounded by the atmosphere of an abandoned 
metropolis, without the constraint or the corrective of a 
wholesome public sentiment. The great monitors of 
society were hushed. The pulpit, not over-active, at 
that time, as a moral teacher in the catholic church in 
Europe, was struck dumb ; for some of its highest dig- 
nitaries were stained with all the vices of the rest of their 
order, that of the nobility. The press was mute on 
everything which touched the vices of the time." 

To this, let the all-pervading influence of the philoso- 
phy, " falsely so called," of Voltaire, be added, and a full 
appreciation may be had of the auspices under which 
the subject of the present memoir was ushered upon the 
stage of life. He was bom at Chavagniac, in the prov- 
ince of Auvergne, on the 6th of September, 1757. Those 
who are curiously precise as to the locality, will need to 
be infoiTQed that Chavagniac, in the modern geography 
of France, is in the department of the Haute Loire, the 
canton of Paulhoquet, and the arrondissement of Bri- 
onde. It is three hundred and sixty miles from Paris. 
The mansion is large, romantically situated, and has an 
air of venerable antiquity much beyond its years, having 
been built only one hundred and fifty years ago, on the 
ruins of a more ancient one, which had been destroyed 
by fire. The estate attached to the chateau was once 
extensive and valuable ; but, confiscated by the Jacobins 
of 1793, and sold in parcels, to meet the exigencies of 
those anarchists, a small portion only of the land was re- 
covered by the family, on their return fi'om exile, and 
that by purchase from the new occupants. 
^ According to the prevailing custom in distinguished 
families in Europe, the noble infant received, at his bap- 



12 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

tism, a list of names sufficient for an ordinary household. 
He was registered under the honorable appellation of 
Marie-Paul-Joseph-Roche-Yves-Gilbert de Mottier Mar- 
quis de Lafayette, a name which contains all the letters 
of the French alphabet except four. Gilbert de Mot- 
tier was the name by which he was usually distin- 
guished from his predecessors'; while, as the chief rep- 
resentative of the family, and the heir to its title and 
estates, the single patronymic Lafayette not only suffi- 
ciently designated his person, but answered all the pur- 
poses of law as a signature. By that honored name he 
will continue to be known, till the end of time, as the 
champion of freedom, and as the one in whose person 
and history were concentrated all the glory and renown 
of a house, which, though noble in itself, and distinguished 
for ages by its virtues, derived from him a new distinc- 
tion, which it was not capable of conferring upon him. 

His father, Michael-Louis-Christophe-Roche-Gilbert 
de Mottier Marquis de Lafayette, though he died at the 
early age of twenty -five, was an officer of considerable 
distinction in the army of Louis XV. He was a colonel 
of the grenadiers of France, and chevalier of the order 
of St. Louis, and was held in high esteem among the 
brave and gallant spirits of the day. He fell at Minden, 
in Germany, on the 13th of July, 1757, bravely fighting 
under the victorious standard of the duke de Broglie. 
The war in which this battle occurred is generally known 
as " the seven years' war," and was canied on, in Eu- 
rope, by the great Frederic of Prussia, assisted by Eng- 
land, against the combined forces of Russia, Austria, 
and France, and in America by England and her colonies 
against France and her colonies — the latter teraiinating 
in the conquest of Canada, and the total extinction of 
the power of France in the western continent. . 

The mother of Lafayette was a daughter of the mar- 



BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 13 

quis de Riviere, of the noble house of Lusignan. Her 
early widowhood seemed to extinguish all hope of again 
reviving the glory of the ancient house, of which her 
gallant lord had been the sole male representative ; but 
in the birth of a son, about two months after, the broken 
line was restored. The early days of the orphan gave 
small promise of the glory of the long and eventful life 
that followed. Feeble in health, left to the sole guidance 
of an indulgent mother, and suiTounded by servile at- 
tendants and the enervating influences of wealth, it was 
scarcely to be hoped that he would ever attain to more^ 
than the pigmy proportions of a mere titled aristocrat. 
To add to these inauspicious omens, and make the bril- 
liant success of his after-career the more remarkable, 
his mother died when he was but thirteen years of age, 
leaving him in the full possession of large and valuable 
estates, and the absolute master of his own movements 
and destiny.v 

His early education had been conducted at home, un- 
der the eye of his mother. At twelve he was j)laced in 
the college du Plessis, at Paris, where his rank and 
wealth introduced him to all the gayeties and dissipa- 
tions of fashionable society. Wliat progress he made 
in his studies, at this time, does not appear. It is not 
probable, however, that he was able to do more than 
maintain a respectable standing among pupils of his 
own age. \[n his own brief reminiscences of this period, 
he alludes rather playfully to " some schoolboy success- 
es, inspired by the love of glory, and somewhat dis- 
turbed by that of liberty." What these " successes" 
were, he does not inform us ; but, fi'om what is known 
of his character, so early matured and developed, his 
undisguised and fearless frankness, and the direct, prac- 
tical, matter-of-fact logic which he was accustomed to 
employ, we find no difficulty in imagining the nature of 



14 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

his literary triumplis. They were undoubtedly the tri- 
umphs of plain common sense over the heartless and 
artificial sentiments which characterized every depart- 
ment of society, but especially that of the capital and 
the court. Everything was expected to bend to a ser- 
vile flattery of greatness. Even literature was not ex- 
empt from this unseemly sycophancy. Poetry and the 
fine arts were all made tributary to the pride of power, 
and the aiTogance of station. It was taught in the nur- 
sery, as the highway to favor and promotion. It was 
inculcated in the schools, and enforced in the colleges. 
But in this species of learning the young Lafayette was 
no apt scholar. His perceptions of right never included 
a blind submission to authority ; and it is easy to con- 
jecture how often and ably he might have foiled, by the 
lucid enunciation of his inborn creed of liberty, the 
specious sophistries of the schools. It appears that he 
was more ambitious of what he regarded as true, than 
of the honors of the college ; for he tells of one occasion 
on which he sacrificed his hopes of reward to his views 
of the teachings of nature. He was required to describe, 
in a rhetorical exercise, a perfect, well-trained courser, 
that would obey the look of his master or the shadow 
of the lash ; instead of which, he indulged himself in a 
full and glowing description of one so restifF under re- 
straint, that, at the very sight of the whip, he reaj'ed and 
plunged, and threw his rider to the ground — a lesson so 
apposite to the existing condition of France, as almost 
to deserve to be styled prophetic. 

He was much noticed at the gay court of Louis the 
Grand, and became quite a favorite of that magnificent 
monarch. He was appointed one of the queen's pages; 
a station which, though coveted by the proud and noble 
of the kingdom, was little in accordance with the fi-ank, 
independent bearing of the young Lafayette. He was 



BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 15 

also enrolled in the king's regiment of musketeers, in 
which, through the direct agency of the queen, he re- 
ceived a commission, at the early age of fifteen. This 
was an honor which was reserved exclusively for the 
sons of the most distinguished and favored among the no- 
bility, and confen-ed as a mark of especial royal regard. 

Though of a disposition eminently social, and keenly 
alive to the pleasures and comforts of domestic life, La- 
fayette displayed an early predilection for military glory, 
and an uncommon maturity in all the essential requisites 
of military success. The main one for advancement, 
however, he did not possess ; he would not court pro- 
motion. He could not " bow the pregnant hinges of the 
knee" to ask for a place, which was conferred as a matter 
of favoritism, not of merit. "^He had expectations of an 
appointment, worthy of his rank, in a regiment under the 
marshal de Noailles, his uncle — expectations based upon 
certain promises to that effect ; but his uncourtier-like 
habits prevented him from enjoying that honor. He was 
averse, even in boyhood, to those puerilities of conversa- 
tion which constitute so large a part of the intercourse 
of the gay circles of society. He had too much self- 
respect to be a flatterer ; and when the matter of conver- 
sation did not accord with his views, he was uniformly 
silent and reserved. He did not rudely interpose his 
sentiments where they would be unwelcome ; but, when- 
ever he could not speak his own free thoughts frankly, 
without giving offence, he became a silent listener. 
These habits soon excited suspicion, and created ene- 
mies, and placed a mark against his name on the royal 
list.V 

This disappointment, if felt at all, was not seriously 
laid to heart. Other conquests than those of arms began 
very early to engross his thoughts. An attachment to one 
of the noblest and most amiable of women — an attach- 



16 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ment which grew deeper, and holier, and more absorb- 
ing, through every period of his eventful life, and which, 
surviving its object through a widowhood of nearly thirty- 
years, went with him, undiminished, to his grave — was 
consummated by his marriage, at the very early age of 
sixteen, to Marie-Adrienne-Franc^aise de Noailles, daugh- 
ter of the duke d'Ayen, who was two years younger 
than himself. Nothing more need be said — no higher 
or more just encomium can be uttered — than that she 
was in all respects worthy to be the wife of Lafayette, 
and the mother of his children. This connexion was 
not only founded in the deepest affection, on his part, 
but favored and promoted, on the part of the relatives, 
by those motives of policy by which so many noble 
families are linked together, and out of which so many 
ill-assorted and unhappy alliances spring. No sooner 
was it consummated, than interest was made at court, by 
his new relatives, to obtain for the young marquis a 
place in the civil establishment of the king. The post 
sought for was an honorary one in the household of 
the count de Proven (^e, the second son of Louis XV., 
who afterward became Louis XVIII. This position 
was by no means desired by Lafayette, as it involved 
precisely that deference to the authority of a mere name, 
and that outward and heartless conformity to the eti- 
quette of a court, which were most unpalatable to the 
republican simplicity of his heart. He was in danger, 
however, of having the honor " thrust upon him" by 
the officious interference of his friends. To prevent it, 
without offending them, by refusing to accept the sta- 
tion offered, he sought an opportunity to render him- 
self so obnoxious to the prince, as to preclude the pos- 
sibility of completing the arrangement. This opportu- 
nity offered itself at a masked ball, where the count de 
Provence appeared in a disguise, which was instantly 



BIRTH AND EARLY HISTORY. 17 

penetrated by the observing eye of Lafayette. Enga 
ging him in conversation, he lost no time in broaching 
some of those views and opinions which he knew would 
be least acceptable to the ear of the prince, at the 
same time replying to his remarks with a freedom 
and boldness, which, if he had been unmasked, would 
have been deemed decidedly uncourteous. At length 
the prince, having taken some offence at his free- 
dom, gave him to understand that he should remember 
it, and then proceeded to show that his memory was 
remarkably clear and tenacious ; to which Lafayette 
coolly replied, that " memory was the wit of fools." This 
closed the conference of the masks, and satisfied the 
prince that the young marquis would be an unavailable 
attache, if not a refractory subject. In speaking of this 
conversation afterward, Lafayette did not conceal the 
fact that he was at the time fully aware of the rank of 
the person with whom he was conversing. This, being 
reported to the prince, was deemed an unpardonable of- 
fence. It was never forgiven. 
2* 



18 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER 11. 

NOBLE COMMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 

The long struggle of the American colonies with their 
unnatural step-mother excited but little interest in Eu- 
rope, in its incipient stages. Even in France, the natu- 
ral enemy of England, its causes and its progress were 
but little understood. It was not until the Rubicon was 
irrevocably passed, the gauntlet of open defiance thrown 
down, the Declaration of Independence signed, sworn 
to, and published to the world, that any portion of Eu- 
rope became aware of the importance of that stiTiggle, or 
of the numbers and strength of the people who claimed 
a place in the family of nations. The deep tones of 
that solemn and unanswerable declaration, borne on the 
breeze across the Atlantic, struck the ear of legitimacy 
like a distant knell. Monarchy and aristocracy quaked 
alike, and looked aghast at each other ; and, except in 
the heart of a Lafayette, and of here and there a Polish 
refugee of rank and talent, it would have found no re- 
sponse in the high places of the old world, had not the 
long-cherished hostility of France against England seen 
in it a favorable opportunity to humble her rival, by as- 
sisting to wrench from her all-grasping sway, her most 
valuable colonial possessions. Even France came for- 
ward with slow and hesitating steps, to widen the breach. 
Had she known the real nature and tendency of the 
contest — had she understood the character of the Amer- 







/'' 



COMMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 19 

ican people, or foreseen the form of government which 
they would ulthnately adopt — it is not probable that she 
could have been induced to come forward at all. Her 
king and his cabinet no doubt expected a western mon- 
archy, or, at the worst, an aristocracy, and not a repub- 
lic, whose history should be the text-book of revolution 
to all free spirits in all the empires of the world. 

It was in the latter part of 1776, about two years after 
his marriage, and while his mind was yet agitated by 
negotiations to attach him to the person of the count de 
Provence, that Lafayette's attention was first drawn to 
the conflict of liberty with oppression in America. He 
was, at that time, an oflicer in the French army, and 
stationed on duty at Metz. The duke of Gloucester, 
brother to George III. of England, happening to pass 
that way, was complimented with a dinner by the com- 
mandant of the place. Lafayette was among the invited 
guests. A principal topic of conversation, at the table, 
was the progress of the rebellion in America, and the 
stringent measures adopted and contemplated by the 
crown of England to crush it. The duke had just re- 
ceived from London the latest advices, and was very 
free in his communications — more so probably than 
good diplomacy, in one so near the throne, would ap- 
prove. 

There was much in the details given which was new to 
Lafayette. They interested him intensely. He entered 
earnestly into the conversation, drawing out from the 
talkative duke, by apposite questions, such facts in the 
yet unwi'itten history, as were necessary to enable him 
to understand the whole merits of the case. He saw, at 
a glance, that it was the cause of justice, of liberty, of 
Heaven. Before he rose from that table, and while 
talking with the brother of the king of England, his 
purpose was fonned — his resolution was taken. He 



20 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

determined to offer himself on tlie altar of liberty — to 
abandon home, and proffer himself and his services to 
the people who were thus nobly struggling for freedom. 

It is not the least singular, among the many remarka- 
ble incidents in the history of this great man's efforts to 
promote liberty in the world, and especially in America, 
that the first clear insight into the cause should have 
been given, the first impulse of chivalric fervor imparted 
to his soul, by one of the royal family of England, against 
whose house the rebellion was begun, and from whose 
crown it was destined to pluck away its brightest jewel. 

From this time, the subject of freedom in the western 
world engrossed all his thoughts. It filled his imagina- 
tion ; it realized his utmost dream of ambitious enter- 
prise and noble achievement. To use his own words, 
uttered years afterward, in a calm review of the conflict, 
" Such a glorious cause had never before attracted the 
attention of mankind. It was the last struggle of Lib- 
erty ; and, had she then been vanquished, neither hope 
nor asylum would have remained for her. The oppres- 
sors and oppressed were to receive a powerful lesson. 
The gi'eat work was to be accomplished, or the rights 
of humanity were to fall beneath its ruins. The destiny 
of France and that of her rival were to be decided at 
the same moment When I first learned the sub- 
ject of this quarrel, my heart espoused waraily the cause 
of liberty, and I thought of nothing but adding also the 
aid of my banner." 

To resolve was to act. Full of his new project of 
glory, he returned to Paris, to make further inquiries, 
and prepare himself for the entei^rise. With all the 
ardor and confidence of youth, he developed his views 
to his two intimate friends. Count Segur, his uncle, and 
the viscount de Noailles, his brother-in-law, proposing 
that they should join him in seeking early laurels in this 



COMMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 21 

cause of human liberty. With a kindred enthusiasm, 
they entered into his views, heartily desiring to accom- 
pany him in his voyage to America ; but, being depend- 
ent on their parents, they were obliged first to solicit their 
consent. This was peremptorily refused, and the whole 
scheme denounced. Fortunately, in advocating their 
own wishes, they did not disclose the designs of their 
friend, who, being his own master, with an income of 
about forty thousand dollars at his disposal, was not to 
be deteiTed from the prosecution of his purpose. 

The count de Broglie, to whom he next confided his 
intentions, did all in his power to discourage him. He 
represented the project as altogether hopeless and chi- 
merical, invested on every side with danger, and without 
any prospects of advantage to justify the risk to be in- 
curred. Personal advantage was not the end which the 
ardent young hero sought, or expected. Personal dan- 
ger he utterly disregarded. It was the cause of liberty 
and right that lay near his heart. That he believed to 
be the cause of America ; and for that he was ready to 
sacrifice all. Resolved to go, notwithstanding the ur- 
gency of his friend's protestations, and knowing that all 
possible obstacles would be thrown in his way, he re- 
quested the count not to betray his secret, but leave him 
to pursue his plans in his own way. The count assured 
him his confidence was not misplaced, while, with all 
the eloquence at his command, he urged and reiterated 
his arguments to dissuade him fi'om indulging any far- 
ther his preposterous design. " I have seen your uncle 
die," he exclaimed, ** in the wars of Italy ; I witnessed 
your father's death at the battle of Minden ; and how 
can I be accessory to the rain of the last and only rep- 
resentative of the family !" 

Finding his arguments and entreaties alike unavailing 
to divert his young friend fi-om his noble and chivalrous 



22 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

purpose, the count offered to introduce him to a Ger- 
man officer of some reputation and experience, who had 
espoused the same cause, and was then seeking an op- 
portunity to consecrate himself to its service. This was 
the baron de Kalb, whose labors, and sacrifices, and 
death, are interwoven in the story of American inde- 
pendence. A common sympathy made them fast friends. 
The baron's counsels were of great value ; while his 
agency as interpreter — for L afayette was not yet famil- 
iar with the English language — was quite essential in 
the course of his subsequent negotiations with the Amer- 
ican agents. 

Anticipating the obstacles that would be thrown in his 
way by his family connections, he resolved to keep his 
own secret, and ask neither advice nor consent of any 
one. Satisfied of the sacredness of the cause and the 
purity of his motives, and depending only on his own 
judgment and resources, he proceeded to make all neces- 
sary preparations for an early departure. Adopting, as 
the motto on his arms, the simple but emphatic appeal, 
" Cur non V (why not ?), he seemed to challenge friend 
and foe alike, to present one reasonable objection to the 
career which he had chosen, and the line of conduct he 
had marked out for himself. 

Silas Deane was then at Paris, as agent from the 
American Congress, soliciting aid, and endeavoring to 
procure arms for the prosecution of the war. To him 
Lafayette was introduced by the baron de Kalb. Being 
yet scarcely nineteen years of age, he could not boast of 
military experience, or promise much in the value of his 
counsels, or in the strength of his arm. But he claimed 
that his enlistment in the service would excite, as soon as 
his departure should be known in France, a wide-spread 
interest in its behalf, and be the means of inducing oth- 
ers to follow his example. Impressed with the noble 



COMMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 23 

aTdor of the youth, and discerning, at a glance, the rare 
qualities of his mind and heart, the American envoy 
gladly accepted hjs services, promising to procure him 
an early passage to America, and an honorable position 
in the continental army. 

To secure the success of such arrangements as these, 
it was necessary that they should be conducted with the 
utmost secrecy. Had his plans been known to his 
family friends, to the goveniment, or to any one of 
the numerous army of French and English spies in 
Paris, insurmountable obstacles would have been thrown 
in the way of his departure. The interests of England 
at the French court, at this time, were represented by 
Lord Stormont, who protested so earnestly against the 
designs and doings of the American agents, that the 
ministers were afraid to receive or acknowledge them. 
Not only so ; they ordered all private aiTangements, 
having a view to the shipment of arms, and the raising 
of recruits, to be suspended, and closed all their ports to 
American privateers. 

The news of the disasters at Brooklyn, Long Island, 
White Plains, and Fort Washington, and the retreat 
across the Jerseys, with the rapid defection of large 
bodies of the people, reaching France at this moment, 
threw a shade of seemingly-hopeless gloom over the 
cause of America, and the enthusiasm of many who had 
begun to look upon it with interest ; while the credit 
of her agents was at once destroyed. Lafayette, on the 
contrary, felt his zeal increase, and his determination 
strengthen, under the pressure of these unfavorable 
circumstances. He called at once upon Mr. Deane, and 
requested him to hasten his departure. The reply was, 
that the credit of his cause was so completely prostrated 
by the recent tidings, that it was impossible to procure 



24 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

a vessel, or to offer him any sufficient encouragement to 
proceed in liis generous purpose. 

Nothing daunted by these representations, he modestly 
but nobly replied : " Hitherto I have only had opportu- 
nity to express in vv^ords my ardor for the cause of your 
country. The time has come to prove my sincerity. I 
shall purchase a ship myself, to carry out all w^ho are 
v\^illing to go. Let us feel confidence in the future. It 
is especially in the hour of danger that I w^ould devote 
myself to your cause." 

This generous proposal was accepted with the cordial 
frankness of one who knew well its value, and could ap- 
preciate the exalted spirit which dictated it. There were 
many difficulties in the v/ay of its execution. Every- 
thing was to be done in the dark ; the most perfect se- 
crecy was to be maintained with respect to every move- 
ment ; and, at the same time, the utmost despatch was 
necessary to render the aid thus proffered seasonable 
and effective. 

Just at this juncture, Lafayette was under the neces- 
sity of fulfilling an engagement, previously entered into 
with his cousin, the prince de Poix, to pay a visit to 
England. He would gladly have avoided doing so, on 
account of the time it must consume ; but fearing that 
his real design might be suspected, and his great secret 
disclosed, if he should suddenly change his purpose, he 
resolved to turn it to good account, by making his prep- 
arations for this short voyage a cover for those of the 
more important one, which engrossed all his thoughts. 

On arriving in London, he displayed the earnestness 
of his zeal in the new cause, by paying his respects 
to Bancroft, the American, before being presented to 
his Britannic majesty. With a high sense of what was 
due from him as a man of honor, he declined all invita- 
tions to visit the seaports, or examine the vessels which 



COMMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 25 

were fitting out for tlie war with tlie colonies, since this 
might be regarded as an abuse of confidence, when his 
intentions should become known. With characteristic 
frankness, he openly avowed his sentiments respecting 
the war, advocating the cause of the rebels, and strongly- 
expressing his satisfaction in view of their signal and 
unexpected success at Trenton, the mortifying intelli- 
gence of whicrh reached London during the time of his 
visit. 

At the expiration of three weeks he returned to Paris. 
Though strongly urged to accompany his uncle to Ver- 
sailles, where he might bask for a while in the sunshine 
of royalty, he suffered an apology to be made for him, 
and hastened to complete the arrangements for his voy- 
age. These aiTangements had been slowly and silently 
going forward during his absence. Arriving in Paris, 
he proceeded directly to the house of baron de Kalb. 
Without making his appearance in public, he saw pri- 
vately a few of his friends, who were favorable to his 
project, and some of the Americans in Paris, and, after 
three days, set out for Bordeaux, whence he intended to 
embark. Here he was informed that his intended de- 
parture had, by some means, become known at court, 
and that orders were already issued to arrest it. Deter- 
mined not to be outdone by a watchful police, he sailed 
to the neighboring port of Passage, in Spain, where 
he left his vessel, and returned immediately to Bor- 
deaux. He then wrote to the ministers of the kinsr at 
Versailles, openly declaring his pui-pose, and asking 
leave to prosecute it without molestation. He also dis- 
closed his intentions to his family, and to some of his 
most intimate fi-iends. 

In these letters there was an air of freedom and de- 
fiance, which gave great offence. He reminded min- 
isters that an officer in the king's Irish regiment had 
3 



26 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

been permitted to go over and join the British forces, and 
challenged them to show reason why other officers should 
not be allowed to join the Americans, equally an inde- 
pendent people, and contending for just principles. The 
privilege had already been granted to several persons, 
who had entered the American service, and could not, 
with any show of justice, be denied to him. As to his 
oath of allegiance, he observed that, when ministers 
should be faithful to their pledges to the people, they 
might, with better grace, talk about a violation of an 
oath to the government. 

The answers to these despatches were anything but 
satisfactory. The letters from his family were violent 
and reproachful. Those from the government were 
peremptory, and accompanied with threats. Neither of 
these had any influence to divert him from his purpose. 
The grief and anxiety of his wife, whose delicate situa- 
tion demanded all his sympathy, affected him most deep- 
ly ; but he had gone too far ; his heart was in the cause ; 
he could not turn back. 

Among the letters then received, was one requiring 
him to repair at once to Marseilles, and there await 
the further orders of his sovereign. Under pretence of 
obeying this order, he set off" in a post-chaise, on the 
road to Marseilles, in company with an officer named 
Mauroy, who was also desirous to go to America. Hav- 
ing proceeded a few leagues in this direction, he assumed 
the disguise of a courier, and, taking the road to Bay- 
onne, rode on before the carriage in the capacity of 
servant to Mauroy. Being necessarily detained at Bay- 
onne a few hours, Lafayette acted well his part as ser- 
vant, by throwing himself upon the straw in the stable, 
and dozing quietly, while his supposed master was ar- 
ranging affairs for the prosecution of their journey. He 
had nearly escaped the danger of pursuit, when he was 




'■'ATTESON D 



■fiHOBRSOU ■ 



Lafayette recogiiiaed by the Postman's Daughter.— Page 27. 



COMMENCEMENT OF A NOBLE CAREER. 27 

unexpectedly recognised by the postman's daughter, at 
St. Jean de Luz, a small village on the border. She 
had seen him as he passed, on his return from Passao-e 
to Bordeaux. Perceiving that he was known, he made 
a sign that she should not expose him. She not only 
kept his secret, but adroitly turned away suspicion when 
his pursuers came up. In reply to their inquiries, she 
assured them that a can'iage had passed that way, but 
that no such person was in it as they described. By this 
means he escaped all further annoyance. He rejoined 
his ship at Passage, on the 26th of April, 1777, and set 
sail on the same day for the theatre of his future glory. 
In his company was baron de Kalb, Mr. Mauroy, and 
ten other officers, of different ranks, to all of whom a 
free passage was given. 

As soon as it was ascertained that the ardent youno- 
hero was gone, the court of France despatched orders 
to the colonies in the West Indies to arrest his progi'ess. 
He had taken out papers for one of the French West 
India islands ; for, even in Spain, it would not have been 
safe or prudent openly to avow his true destination. It 
was, moreover, the general custom, with both Spanish 
and French cruisers, to take this indirect course, partly 
with a view to making a double voyage, and partly 
through fear of the English ships-of-war, which were 
hovering on the coast of America. The captain of the 
Victory insisted upon taking this course ; but Lafayette, 
anticipating the hazard of pursuit, required him to sail 
directly for an American port, threatening, in case of 
refusal, to give the command to the mate. The captain, 
deceived by the ostensible design of his employer, had 
taken on board, for his own account, a cargo assorted 
for the West Indies, and valued at eight thousand dol- 
lars. With the generosity so natural to him, Lafayette 



28 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

agi-eed to indemnify him for any loss that might result 
from this change of destination. 

The Victory was a heavy sailer. She was furnished 
with two inferior cannon, and a quantity of small-arms 
— an armament insufficient for a conflict with the light- 
est privateer. Notwithstanding this meager equipment, 
her brave company resolved to contest the right of way 
with any force that might appear to dispute it, and, in 
any event, not to suffer themselves to be taken. To 
avoid this latter alternative, Lafayette had concerted 
measures with Bidaulx, a brave Dutchman, who, having 
deserted his post in the royal army, had nothing to hope 
for, in case of capture, but an ignominious death, to blow 
up the ship, should there be a probability of its falling 
into the hands of their pursuers. 

As soon as he had recovered frOm the first attack of 
sea-sickness, Lafayette applied himself with diligence to 
the study of the language of his new friends, and to such 
other matters as would qualify him to become useful on 
his arrival. They had nearly reached the American 
coast, when they descried a vessel, apparently in chase. 
The captain was alarmed ; but the crew,^ as well as the 
company of officers on board, were all united in making 
preparations for resistance. Their courage was not put 
to the test. The stranger proved to be an American 
privateer, returning from a cruise among the islands, and 
homeward bound. They made every effort to keep their 
ship in company with her ; but being a superior sailer, 
she soon left them behind. It was a fortunate parting. 
The following day the American vessel encountered two 
English frigates, and was made a prize. The slower 
Frenchman escaped. 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 29 



CHAPTER III. 

FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 

After a tedious voyage of seven weeks, during which 
time they had encountered the usual variety of perils and 
discomforts, and narrowly escaped the dangers of pur- 
suit and capture, they descried the coast of South Caro- 
lina, near Greorgetown, at the mouth of Pedee river. It 
was late in the day when they made the land. Entering 
the mouth of the river, about dark, they went on shore 
in their boats. Attracted by a light, they approached 
the house of Major Benjamin Huger. The furious bark- 
ing of the dogs promised them anything but a hospitable 
reception. Nor were the people within apparently more 
favorably disposed than their watchful sentinels without. 
Supposing the strangers to be a party of pillaging marau- 
ders, just landed from some British privateer — numbers 
of which were continually hovering on the coast — they 
kept their doors bolted and barred, and held a prudent 
parley, before they would consent to give them admit- 
tance. Baron de Kalb, who had been in America be- 
fore, and was tolerably acquainted with the language, 
was obliged to act as interpreter. Having announced 
himself and his party, and explained the object of their 
visit to America, the doors were instantly thrown open, 
and a cordial welcome extended to the sti'angers. With 
the generous hospitality so universally characteristic of 
the southern gentleman, Lafayette and his band were 
3* 



30 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

received into the family of Major Huger as friends and 
brothers, and every arrangement was made for their 
personal comfort. 

The feeling of mingled triumph and hope w^hich agi- 
tated the mind of Lafayette, in finding himself safe upon 
American soil, out of the reach of pursuit and moles- 
tation, and on the point of realizing his ardent desire 
to take part in the contest between freedom and oppres- 
sion, in a field sufiiciently wide to give ample scope to 
the combatants, and sufficiently noble to justify a strug- 
gle for its possession, can be better imagined than de- 
scribed. It partook of the ardent enthusiasm of youth, 
full of confidence and buoyant with expectation, and the 
firm and earnest resolve of mature manhood, when its 
entire being seems concentrated upon a point, and all its 
interests involved in a single cast of the die. 

When the morning dawned, and he looked out for the 
first time upon an American landscape, he was enchanted 
with the beauty of the country, clothed with the luxuri- 
ant verdure of June, and smiling in the rosy light of an 
unclouded morning. Everything was new to him ; but 
everything was beautiful. Transferred suddenly from 
a society where everything was artificial and heartless, 
and where rank and title everywhere had precedence 
of solid worth and virtue, to the bosom of a people who 
had just announced to the world, as the basis of their 
political creed, the doctrine of equal rights and universal 
liberty, he seemed to feel that he had begun his life 
anew, and that henceforth he was neither a nobleman 
nor a Frenchman, but a citizen of the world — a member 
of the great family of mankind. This feeling never left 
him. It grew with his years, and strengthened with his 
experience, and made him, in all the vicissitudes of an 
eventful life, the man of the age, rather than the raan of 
a nation, a party, or a creed. 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 31 

Among the children of Major Huger was an interest- 
ing boy, a fine, manly little fellow, who attracted the 
attention of the guests, and who, as he is destined to act 
a most heroic and romantic part in the sequel, deseiTes 
a passing notice here. Francis Kinloch Huger, first 
alarmed and then delighted, at the appearance of so 
many strangers, amused and puzzled with their foreign 
accent and broken language, was noticed by all, but 
especially by Lafayette. Sitting upon his knee, or walk- 
ing with him over the grounds of the plantation, he en- 
tertained the noble visiter with his childish prattle, and 
with his intelligent questions respecting the distant land 
from which he came. With the enthusiasm of an ob- 
serving child, he entered into his zeal for the cause of 
liberty, which was understood and discussed by the chil- 
dren of America with the boldness and freedom, if not 
with the intelligence, of their patriot parents. Thus 
the name of Lafayette became associated, in the earliest 
thoughts of the young Carolinian, with all that was good, 
and gi'eat, and noble. With the deepest veneration and 
affection, he treasured up all the incidents of his subse- 
quent career. Once he risked liberty and life in his 
service, and, to the last, entertained toward him almost 
the reverence due to a superior order of beings. 

Having entertained his honored guests with the hospi- 
tality of a patriarch, Major Huger provided horses to 
convey them to Charleston. The Victory was ordered 
to the same place, though in imminent danger of being 
captured by British cruisers. She arrived in safety, 
having encountered neither friend nor foe by the way. 
Finding several vessels, both French and American, 
about to depart for Europe, Lafayette employed the 
first moments of his short stay in Charleston in writing 
to his fi'iends at home. The following extracts from his 
letters of this period, will serve to complete the naiTa- 



32 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

tive and illustrate the feelings of the youthful adven- 
turer. 

Under date of June 7th, one week before his arrival, 
he thus expressed his enthusiastic and almost prophetic 
desires for the cause in v^hich he wns about to engage : 
"While defending the liberty I adore, I shall enjoy perfect 
freedom myself. I but offer my service to that interesting 
republic from motives of the purest kind, unmixed w^ith 
ambition or private views. Her happiness and my glory 
are my only incentives. I hope that, for my sake, you 
will become a good American ; for that feeling is wor- 
thy of every noble heart. The happiness of America is 
intimately connected with the happiness of all mankind. 
S7ie will hecome the safe and respected asylum of virtue, 
integrity, toleration, equality, and tranquil happiness.''^ 
On the 15th, after announcing his arrival at Major Hu- 
ger's, he added : " The manners in this part of the world 
are simple, polite, and worthy in every respect of the 
country in which the noble name of liberty is constantly 
repeated." 

Writing from Charleston, on the 19th, he says : " The 
country and its inhabitants are as agreeable as my en- 
thusiasm had led me to imagine. Simplicity of manner, 
kindness of heart, love of country and of liberty, and a de- 
lightful state of equality, are met with universally. The 
richest and the poorest men are completely on a level." 

Leaving Charleston, where he had received every at- 
tention becoming his rank and his disinterested devotion 
to liberty, Lafayette had before him a journey of about 
nine hundred miles to Philadelphia, where Congress was 
then in session. The facilities for travelling were far 
inferior to those which we now enjoy. The roads were 
anything but easy, and travellers were in some peril, owing 
to the unsettled state of the country, and the differences 
of opinion, in relation to the contest, which prevailed 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 33 

among the people. This journey was made on horse- 
back ; a light carriage, which was purchased at Charles- 
ton to relieve the tediousness of the way, having soon 
fallen a sacrifice to the roughness of the roads. Alluding 
playfully to this circumstance in a letter from Petersburg, 
he says : " You know that I set out in a brilliant manner 
in a carriage. I must now tell you that we are all on 
horseback, having broken the carriage according to my 
usual praiseworthy custom, and I hope soon to write to 
you that we have aiTived on foot." 

The Victory was despatched, with letters, and a cargo 
of rice, for France. But, having fulfilled her destiny, she 
was wi'ecked on the bar, at the entrance of Charleston 
harbor, and the vessel and cargo became a total loss. 

The journey to Philadelphia occupied a month ; the 
extreme heat of the weather, and the badness of the 
roads, combining to make his progress slow and tedi- 
ous. It was made interesting, however, as well by ob- 
servations on the face of the country, and the character 
and habits of the people, as by the object for which it 
was undertaken. At every resting-place, the leisure mo- 
ments of Lafayette were employed in writing to his wife 
and to his friends in Fra,nce. These letters are replete 
with sentiments of the purest affection for his family and 
friends and the country he had left behind, and the noblest 
and most disinterested enthusiasm for that which he had 
now adopted. 

It was an interesting^ crisis in American affairs when 
Lafayette arrived to take part in the stiiiggle. The mas- 
terly stroke by which, with the broken remnants of a 
thrice-vanquished and retreating army, Washington had 
turned upon his victorious pursuers, and driven them, 
with great loss, out of the Jerseys, had convinced the 
British commander that the "rebels" were not easily 
beaten, and that more vigorous measures must be adopt- 



34 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

ed to recover the royal possessions in America. The 
plan of the campaign was to put on so formidable a front 
as to crush at once all hope of successful resistance. For 
this purpose, an aimy of ten thousand men was collected 
in Canada, to operate, by way of Lake Champlain, against 
the norther frontier, and, if possible, separate New Eng- 
land from the more southern colonies. Preceded by proc- 
lamations, addressed alike to the fears of the timid and 
to the lingering hopes of the loyal, and accompanied 
by bands of mercenary savages, more dreaded because 
more ignorant and fierce, than De Heister's Hessians, 
Burgoyne descended the lake, and taking possession of 
the too easily abandoned fortress at Ticonderoga, struck a 
heavier and more effective blow than had yet distinguished 
the British arms in America. With this formidable dan- 
ger on the north, and the brothers Howe concentrating a 
force of nearly twenty thousand men in New York for 
some secret expedition, Washington was utterly at a loss 
as to how he should dispose his comparatively feeble force 
to properly meet and resist the movements of the ene- 
my. New York, Rhode Island, and the lakes, were now 
in the hands of that enemy. Every point was threatened at 
the same time. To guard the fortresses in the highlands of 
the North river, and prevent the junction of Sir Henry 
Clinton with Burgoyne, Putnam was strongly reinforced 
at Peekskill, and the main army placed in a commanding 
position on the other side of the river. To meet an ap- 
parent demonstration toward Philadelphia, the main army 
traversed the Jerseys to the Delaware, and the reinforce- 
ments ordered to the highlands were withdrawn to the 
western bank of the river, to be in instant readiness for 
a movement northward or southward, as the exigencies 
of the different posts might require. 

At length, the British fleet was reported in the Dela- 
ware, and the real design of G-eneral Howe was fully 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 35 

disclosed. On receiving^ this information, Washino-ton 
crossed the Delaware, and encamped with eleven thou- 
sand men at Germantown, about ten miles from Phila- 
delphia. 

It was at this critical juncture that Lafayette, with his 
retinue, arrived at Philadelphia. He immediately placed 
his letters in the hands of Mr. Lovell, chairman of the 
committee of foreign affairs. Calling the next day for 
an intei'^'iew with him, a sudden shade was thrown over 
his high-raised hopes and expectations. The Ameri- 
can Congress had been overwhelmed with applications 
from foreigners, who, for the most part, with the most 
extravagant pretensions, exhibited no good title to confi- 
dence or regard. Many of them, without name, without 
talent, without any other purpose than an undefined am- 
bition for military distinction, were mere quixotic ad- 
venturers, who, for the paltry glory of a name, would as 
soon have espoused one side as the other ; while others 
would perhaps have betrayed them both for the distinc- 
tion of an epaulette, a purse of gold, or a mess of pot- 
tasfe. The motives and characters of such as these were 
soon understood by the shrewd men to whom the inter- 
ests of American freedom were then intrusted. Their 
claiijis were rejected at once. Some of them lowered 
their tone, and accepted stations far more humble than 
were at first demanded. Others, disappointed and cha- 
grined, returned to Europe, to seek service in some other 
field of war, perfectly indifferent whether they found it in 
the ranks of freedom or in those of its enemies. 

So numerous had these applications been, during the 
past season, that Congress began to look with suspicion 
upon all foreigners, and to lay their claims upon the ta- 
ble, with scarcely the ceremony of a reception. Mr. 
Lovell explained these circumstances to Lafayette, and 
assured him there was little hope that the agreement of 



36 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Mr. Deane, v/hich promised him the rank of major-gen- 
eral, would be ratified by Congress. Satisfied that his 
papers had not been examined, he requested Mr. Lovell 
to return to Congi-ess and renev/ his application fiDr ad- 
mission to the sei^ice, accompanied with the fi^llowing 
brief and emphatic note : " After the sacrifices I have 
made, I have a right to exact two favors : one is, to serve 
at my own expense ; the other is, to serve, at first, as a 
volunteer." These terms, so unlike the tone of extrava- 
gant demand to which they had been accustomed, and 
presenting few obstacles on the ground of an interference 
with the just expectations of American officers, were im- 
mediately accepted. The resolution of Congress, con- 
ferring on him the nominal rank of major-general, with- 
out assigning him any definite command, was passed on 
the 31st of July, and is in these words : " Seeing that 
the marquis de Lafayette, on account of his great zeal in 
the cause of liberty in which the United States are en- 
gaged, has quitted his family and country, and has come 
to offer his services to the United States, without de- 
manding either pay or private indemnity, and that he de- 
sires to expose his life in our cause — Resolved, That his 
services be accepted, and that, on account of his zeal, 
his illustrious family and connections, he shall have the 
rank and commission of major-general in the army of 
the United States." At the date of this resolution, which 
conferred upon him the highest rank known in the Amer- 
ican army, the young hero was within five weeks of com- 
pleting the twentieth year of his age. 

With several of the officers who had accompanied him 
from France, in the hope of obtaining honorable employ- 
ment in America, Lafayette was wholly unacquainted 
until he met them on board the Victory. But he felt a 
friendly interest in them all, and, with his characteristic 
generosity, deeming himself in some measure instrumen- 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 37 

tal in leading them across the Atlantic, he liberally in- 
demnified from his own purse those whose services were 
not accepted. 

Washington was now daily expected at Philadelphia, and 
Lafayette anxiously awaited his amval. Their first meet- 
mg was at a dinner-party, where several members of Con- 
gi-ess were present, who communicated to the command- 
er-m-chief the circumstances under which the new com- 
mission had been issued. Washington was most favora- 
bly impressed with the modest appearance and disinter- 
ested zeal of the young volunteer. On rising from the 
table, he drew Lafayette aside, and entered into a free 
and paternal conversation with him. He complimented 
him upon his zeal and his sacrifices in the cause of hu- 
man liberty, and invited him to consider the headquarters 
of the army as his home, playfully adding that he could 
not promise him the luxuries of a court, or the conveni- 
ences of a domestic establishment, but that, having sacri- 
ficed so much to become an American soldier, he was 
no doubt prepared cheerfully to submit to the customs 
and privations of a republican camp. 

From this time, a friendship of the most intimate and 
enduring character existed between these truly gi-eat 
men — a friendship based upon a fundamental similarity 
of tastes, habits, and opinions, and cemented by the sin- 
cerest esteem and affection. 

Having accompanied the general in a visit of exami- 
nation to the fortifications in and about Philadelphia, 
Lafayette proceeded with him to the camp. On the day 
of his arrival the troops were reviewed by the general in 
person. To a French officer, accustomed only to the 
well-appointed camps, and disciplined armies, of the Old 
World, that army must have presented a singular spec- 
tacle. Poorly clad, in clothes of every form and hue, 
miserably armed, and almost entirely unskilled in the 
4 



38 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

most common military tactics, it miglit have provoked a 
smile from one less versed than he in the art of wai\ 
To him, hovv^ever, w^ho looked rather to the cause in 
which they were enlisted, than to mere outward trap- 
pings, it was the noblest army that was ever an-ayed in 
camp or field. There was fire in their eyes, and spirit 
and independence in their movements, which, proving 
them alike incoiTuptible and invincible, threw all the out- 
ward pomp and circumstance of military parade and 
equipment quite into the shade. When Washington ex- 
pressed to Lafayette the embarrassment he must neces- 
sarily feel in exhibiting such an army before a Euro- 
pean ofiicer like himself, he modestly replied, " I have 
come here to leam, and not to teach." 

WTien the British fleet entered the Chesapeake, Wash- 
ington removed his camp to Wilmington. In making this 
movement he marched his entire army through the streets 
of Philadelphia, which were gayly dressed for the occasion 
with leaves and flowers, where, accompanied by the stir- 
ring music of drum and fife, they received the cheering 
acclamations of the citizens. Lafayette was at his side 
during this march. He also shared the danger to which 
he imprudently subjected himself, when, a few nights 
after, having reconnoitred the position of the enemy, and 
being overtaken by a storm on his return, he took shelter 
in a farmhouse so perilously near to the enemy's lines as 
to expose himself and his party to the imminent hazard 
of a surprise. 

""Hitherto, Washington had pursued the prudent, un- 
ambitious policy of annoying the enemy by occasional 
skirmishes, without risking a general engagement. The 
voice of the people and of Congress now demanded a 
battle, and preparations were made to meet that demand. 
The British had landed a little below the head of the 
Elk, which is formed bv the union of two small creeks 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OP AMERICA. 39 

at Elkton. It is about half way between the Susque- 
hannah and the Delaware, and thirteen miles from its 
junction with the Chesapeake. The Americans were 
posted on the northern bank of Red Clay creek, a few 
miles below Wilmington, their pickets, under General 
Maxwell, being advanced to Christiana bridge, which 
was nearly one third of the distance between them and 
the enemy's position. During the time occupied in 
landing, there was constant skiraaishing between light 
parties of the opposing armies, in which the Americans 
g-ained some advantas^e. The movements of General 
Howe indicating an intention to outflank the American 
right, Washington retired across the Brandywine, post- 
ing his centre on the high gi'ound near Chad's Ford, two 
miles south of Dilworth. His right wing, commanded 
by Sullivan, had charge of the fords above and at the 
forks of the river. The left wing, under Armstrong, 
extended down toward Wilmington. In this position, 
in pursuance of the advice of Congress, a stand was 
made, with a view to bring on a general engagement. 

One division of the British army, under General Knyp- 
hausen, advanced in a direct line toward Chad's Ford,with 
no other design than to divert the attention of the Ameri- 
can commander ; while the other division, under Lord 
Cornwallis, accompanied by General Howe, proceeded 
along the Lancaster road, making a circuit of seventeen 
miles, and crossing the Brandywine above the forks, at- 
tacked the right wing in the rear. Finding that this was 
to be the field of danger for that day, Lafayette, who had 
remained near the person of Washington, asked leave to 
volunteer his services to General Sullivan. His request 
was cheerfully granted, and he galloped away to the scene 
of action. His aiTival infused new spirit into the troops, 
who were hardly bested, and destined to a severe engage- 
ment with a far superior force. Cornwallis advanced in- 



40 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

fine order, with a heavy fire of both artillery and musketry. 
The two wings were soon put to flight. The centre, 
commanded by Lord Stirling, maintained its ground 
nobly for a considerable time. One regiment, under 
Conway, was particularly distinguished for its good con- 
duct. Lafayette was with this division, and rendered 
essential service in rallying the troops and preserving 
order on their retreat. He had dismounted, on his ar- 
rival, and joined the ranks on foot, where he exhibited 
a conspicuous example of coolness and courage which 
would have done honor to a veteran. In the heat 
of the engagement, and at the very moment when the 
central division, overpowered by the superior num- 
bers of the enemy, broke and gave way, Lafayette re- 
ceived a ball in his leg, but paid no attention to it till 
the blood was noticed running over his boot-top. By 
the assistance of Gimat, his aide-de-camp, he mounted 
his horse, and continued his exertions till Greene came 
up with reinforcements. Compelled by loss of blood to 
stop and have his wound bandaged, he was exposed to im- 
minent danger of being captured by the advancing foe. 

The presence of Greene could not tura the retreat ; 
but he covered it with signal ability, checking the pur- 
suit of the enemy, and sustaining a warm engagement 
till dark. It was not until he arrived at Chester, a dis- 
tance of twelve miles from the scene of action, with the 
slow pace of a retreating army, in which he was active 
and useful to the last, that Lafayette was able to have 
his wound attended to. It was then found to be suffi- 
ciently serious to require a considerable period of re- 
pose ; having, no doubt, been not a little aggravated by 
the exertions and exposures of a hazardous retreat. He 
was first conveyed to Philadelphia ; and immediately 
afterward, when Congress abandoned that city for a 
more secure position at Lancaster, he was placed in the 



FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF AMERICA. 41 

care of the good Moravians at Bethlehem. In their hos- 
pitable and peaceful retreat, where he was confined to 
his bed about six weeks, he received the kind attention 
and good nursing which his case required. But to his 
youthful and ardent spirit, inactivity was as hard to 
bear as physical pain. He longed to be abroad in the 
field, and to witness the progress of those events, on 
the issue of which he had staked his all. The peace- 
loving Moravians endeavored in vain to convince him 
of the folly and sinfulness of the profession he had 
adopted, and the perfect propriety and practicability of 
the pacific principle. He listened with deference to 
their homilies against war, while, at the same time, he 
amused himself with projects which should strengthen 
the cause of liberty in the new world, and kindle afresh 
the contentions with tyrants in the old. 

Unable to wield the sword, he took up his pen, and 
corresponded with singular diligence and ability, not 
only with his family and friends, but with such persons 
of distinction, in both France and the French colonies, 
as he supposed might exert a favorable influence in 
the American cause. To I\^^ Bouille, governor of 
Martinique, he proposed an ei^^'^Drise, to weaken the 
power of the common enemy,*'^^ an attack upon the 
English islands, under American colors. That gen- 
eral approved the project, but, on laying it before 
the minister, was not permitted to prosecute it. He 
also wrote to the count de Maurepas, proposing to 
conduct an expedition against the English factories in 
the Indian ocean, to be manned in part by Americans, 
and carried on under the American flag. Subsequent 
events left no doubt on his mind that this latter expedi- 
tion would have been attended with complete success, 
depriving Great Britain of the most important of her 

colonial possessions in the East; but, as Lafayette was 
4* 



42 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

in disgi'ace at Versailles, Ms unceremonious departure 
not having been forgiven, no official answer was ever 
made to this suggestion. Count de Maurepas spoke 
publicly in praise of it, and ever after showed a decided 
partiality for the brave heart and sagacious mind in 
which it originated. Tn remarking upon the warmth 
of his zeal in the service of liberty, the old minister is 
reported to have said : " He will end, one day, by un- 
furnishing the palace of Versailles to serve the Ameri- 
can cause ; for when he has once taken anything into 
his head, it is impossible to resist him." 



'¥ 



GALLANT SERVICES REWARDED. 43 



CHAPTER IV. 

GALLANT SERVICES REWARDED LAFAYETTE COMMAND- 
ER-IN-CHIEF OF THE NORTHERN ARMY. 

During the temporary retirement of Lafayette, the 
British general had entrenched himself at Philadelphia ; 
and Washington, with the hope of dislodging him, had 
conducted a well-fought but unsuccessful attack upon 
his advanced post at Geraiantown. This was on the 4th 
of October. The report of the action, and the new hopes 
it inspired, made the young volunteer more impatient 
than ever to be in the field. He was not then allowed 
to leave his bed ; but early in November, though still 
unable to wear a boot, he was so far recovered as to 
be able to return to the camp. Headquarters were 
then established at Wliitemarsh, fourteen miles west 
of Philadelphia. General Greene being ordered into 
New Jersey, to watch and harass the movements of 
Lord Comwallis, Lafayette accompanied him as a vol- 
unteer. Taking command of a detachment of three 
hundred and fifty men, for the purpose of reconnoitring 
the enemy's position, he led them from Mount Holly to 
Gloucester point, a few miles below Philadelphia, on the 
opposite side of the river, where he overtook the retiring 
foe. They had collected considerable booty, which they 
were engaged in conveying across the river. To inform 
himself more perfectly of their position, the young gen- 
eral advanced, in person, upon a narrow strip of land 



i'i LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

called Sandy point, wliicli projected far into the river. 
Here he was wholly exposed to the direct fire of the 
British, to which he would doubtless have fallen a vic- 
tim, if they had not relied with so much confidence upon 
their ability to cut off his retreat and take him alive, as 
to neglect the use of their arms till he was quite out of 
their reach. His guides were in the gi'eatest alarm. 
The pursuit was extremely warm ; but, by his coolness 
and activity, he succeeded in evading the one and quiet- 
ing the other. 

At four o'clock in the afternoon, he fell in with a regi- 
ment of Hessians, nearly four hundred in number, who 
were posted about two miles in advance of the British 
camp. Though his force was inferior in numbers, and 
without artillery, he immediately assaulted the place, and 
compelled the Hessians to give way. The firing being 
heard at the camp, C ornwallis came up with his grenadiers ; 
but, owing to the nature of the ground and the skilful dis- 
position of the American party, he was deceived as to the 
number of his antagonists. Supposing himself engaged 
with the entire corps of General Greene, which was equal 
to his own, he suffered himself to be driven back to the 
neighborhood of Gloucester, where he intended to make 
a stand. In this skirmish the British lost about sixty 
men. A message had been despatched to Greene, to in- 
form him of the conflict. He set forward immediately, 
and arrived on the ground late at night. The combat 
having been suspended, he did not deem it prudent to 
renew it. In the morning Lord C ornwallis crossed the 
river, without risking another engagement, and Greene, 
with his force, rejoined the main army at Whitemarsh. 

The good management and success of Lafayette, in 
this affair, was highly gratifying to the army and to Con- 
gress. His personal popularity was great, wherever he 
was known. His devotion to their cause — his cool, in- 



GALLANT SERVICES REWARDED. 45 

trepid bravery in action — his modest deportment, unas- 
suming manners, and easy acquiescence in the plain 
habits, plain fare, and unusual hardships of the republi- 
can camp — had won for him a high place in the confi- 
dence, esteem, and affection, of all classes. It was, 
therefore, with general satisfaction that Congi'ess em- 
braced this opportunity to assign him a command in ac- 
cordance with his rank. 

On the 26th of November, immediately after the affair 
at Gloucester, Washington urged the matter upon the 
attention of Congi'ess, in a letter commending, in strong 
terms, his prudence and good conduct. A resolution 
was accordingly passed, on the 1st of December, 1777, 
declaring that " it would be extremely agreeable to the 
Congi'ess of the United States to see the marquis de 
Lafayette at the head of a division." Three days after- 
ward it was proclaimed, in public orders, that he was to 
take command of the division recently under General 
Stephen, who had been dismissed from the army. This 
division was composed chiefly of the Virginia regiments 
of militia. 

On the 5th of December, General Howe, having been 
reinforced by several regiments from New York, took 
post at Chesnut hill, scarcely more than three miles from 
Whitemarsh. His force consisted of twelve thousand 
men. Washington, with his accustomed prudence, though 
not averse to an engagement, resolved to act on the de- 
fensive, upon the ground he had chosen. But Howe, 
not inclined to venture upon an attack, after wasting 
three days in a variety of manceuvres, in the vain hope 
of gaining some advantage, suddenly returned to Phila- 
delphia, having lost, in different skirmishes, more than a 
hundred men. 

Meanwhile, the American force in Pennsylvania had 
been considerably strengthened by detachments from the 



46 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

army at the north, the surrender of Burgoyne rendering 
the longer continuance of the troops in that quarter un- 
necessary. But as companies and regiments, whose teiTus 
of enlistment had expired, were continually returning to 
their homes, the whole number, under the immediate 
command of Washington, seldom exceeded ten thousand 
men. With a well-organized, regular army, he could at 
any time have driven the British from the field. 

About the middle of December, with his little handful 
of men, wretchedly clad, and wretchedly provided in all 
respects, Washington went into winter quarters at Valley 
Forge. An encampment so unique, so destitute of ev- 
erything that could make it attractive, comfortable, or 
even tolerable, our European allies had never seen nor 
imagined. It filled them with surprise and admiration. 
Lafayette, who partook of its hardships, remarked that 
*' the patient endurance of both soldiers and ofinicers was 
a miracle which each moment served to renew." With 
a devotion to the American cause as deep as it was sin- 
gular, he encouraged the endurance of others by submit- 
ting cheerfully and voluntarily to every privation, and 
remaining constantly on duty in camp. He wished to 
be even more simple, frugal, and austere, than the Amer- 
icans themselves, and refused nothing in the way of self- 
denial or fatigue, which his duty as an ofiicer rendered 
practicable. 

At this epoch. General Lafayette was called upon to 
take a very conspicuous place in the araiy, under cir- 
cumstances which exhibited in the strongest light, not 
only his sincere attachment to Washington, and his true 
fidelity to the American cause, but that sterling virtue 
and incorruptible integrity of character, which made 
him, through his whole life, one of the most noble and 
consistent of men. An intrigue was in progress, to un- 
dermine the influence and destroy the power of the com- 



i 



COMMANDS THE NORTHERN ARMY. 47' 

mander-in-cliief. General Gates was at the head of it, 
though it has received the designation of " Conway's 
cabah" Gates, Mifflin, and Conway, were the conspira- 
tors ; and, aided by the eclat which attached to the name 
of the former, in consequence of his success at Saratoga, 
he had stained the ear of several members of Consfress. 
Even in that honorable body, on whose deliberations and 
decisions were suspended, not only the fate of the na- 
tion, but that of Liberty herself for centuries to come, 
there were not a few of those shortsighted, shallow rea- 
soners, who estimate talent by success, and virtue by the 
noisy pretensions of those who lay exclusive claim to it. 

The evident design of the cabal was to displace Gen- 
eral Washington, and raise General Gates to the supreme 
command. The better to effect this, it was deemed ne- 
cessary to detach Lafayette from his interest, and, if 
possible, draw him into the conspiracy. With this view, 
an expedition againt Canada was projected, to be or- 
dered by Congiess, and carried on by a distinct anny, 
under a commander who should be in no way responsi- 
ble to Washington. Gates, as chairman of the board of 
war, was the author of this scheme. It was adopted, by 
the aid of his friends and supporters in Congi'ess, with- 
out consulting Washington in reference to any of its de- 
tails. He was only infonned of its nature and design, 
when, in the latter part of January, 1778, he received a 
letter from General Gates, enclosing another to Lafay- 
ette, informing him that he was appointed to the com- 
mand of the expedition. 

Washington placed the commission in the hands of his 
friend, without allowing himself to make a single remark. 
Lafayette, on perusing the paper, immediately penetra- 
ted the designs of its projectors, and declared to three 
commissioners of Congress, who chanced to be in the 
camp at that moment, that he would never accept any 



48 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

command independent of his general, and that the ti- 
tle of aide-de-camp appeared to him preferable to any- 
other that could be offered to him. His first impulse 
was to decline the appointment altogether. It was at 
best an unpromising scheme ; and so it appeared to him 
at first view. It contemplated the raising of an aiTQy 
of two or three thousand men, to rendezvous at Albany, 
proceed across Lake Champlain on the ice, bum the 
enemy's shipping at St. John's, press onward to Montreal, 
and accomplish such other enterprises as circumstances 
might suggest and permit. 

General Washington at once advised the acceptance 
of the command, expressing his satisfaction that it was 
offered to him rather than to any other person, and ad- 
ding that so high a testimony of the confidence of Con- 
gress would be honorable to him in the eyes of the 
world, while his own prudence would be a sufficient 
guaranty to his reputation, in whatever manner the ex- 
pedition might terminate. 

Thus advised by the man in whom he most confided, 
Lafayette signified his acceptance of the honorable charge 
on condition of remaining subordinate to General Wash- 
ington, of being considered but as an officer detached 
from his command, and of addressing all official letters 
to him, the duplicates of which should be sent to Con- 
gress. These stipulations being assented to, he hastened 
to York, about eighty miles west of Philadelphia, where 
Congress was then assembled, to confer with the board 
of war. They had directed him to proceed at once to 
Albany, and there await his further instructions, hopino- 
thus to intoxicate him with a sense of his own impor- 
tance, and at the same time remove him from the influ- 
ence of the counsels of his commander. But he insisted 
upon receiving circumstantial orders before his depart- 
ure, with a full statement of the means to be employed, 



COMMANDS THE NORTHERN ARMY. 49 

and the prospects of ultimate success. He also demand- 
ed an additional number of general officers, among whom 
he nominated his old friend the baron de Kalb, who, 
being senior in rank, would take precedence of Conway, 
and thus defeat all the hopes based upon his superior 
influence. 

At the house of General Gates, where all these mat- 
ters were discussed at the dinner-table, Mifflin and Con- 
way being present, with others interested in promoting 
the enterprise, the youthful general threw off all disguise 
in relation to his own sentiments and preferences, by ob- 
serving, as they were about to separate, that there was one 
toast which they had not dmnk, which could not, without 
violence to his feelings, be omitted. The glasses being 
filled, he gave — " The commander-in-chief of the Amer- 
ican armies." It was received with manifest coldness, 
but, in deference to him who proposed it, was drunk with 
the usual ceremony of respect. 

This frank and manly avow^al of his sentiments, and the 
decided conditions by which he cut off all hope of being 
made the mere tool of a faction, to promote their own 
elevation by the destruction of all above them, deprived 
the enterprise of all its most promising features, and led 
to its ultimate abandonment. Its projectors had not the 
hardihood, however, to give it up without some show of 
effort, which sei-ved only to divide and distract the Amer- 
ican forces, and consume a large amount of " the sinews 
of war," the furnishing of which imposed such a heavy 
burden upon the country. 

General Lafayette entered upon the execution of this 
new trust, with full confidence that he should be able to 
render important sei-vice to the country, if all the prom- 
ised means were faithfully and promptly afforded him ; 
but, at the same time, with a strong conviction that the 
whole would fail for want of those means. In his in- 

5 



50 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

structions from the war-office, it was stipulated that 
twenty-five hundred men should be assembled at Albany, 
to be joined by a large corps of New-England militia, 
under command of the brave and talented General Stark, 
whose grand achievement at Bennington, the previous 
year, had furnished the key to all our successes at the 
north. He was also to be supplied with two millions of 
paper-money, a considerable quantity of specie, and all 
the necessary facilities for conveying his army across 
Lake Champlain on the ice. 

Early in February, 1778, the commander-in-chief of 
the northern araiy, being then some seven months less 
than twenty-one years of age, commenced his long and 
dreary journey to Albany. He could only travel on 
horseback, and the distance was more than three hun- 
dred miles. Dismissing his guide at Hemingtown, he 
wrote a hasty note to Washington, in which he says, " I 
go on slowly, sometimes drenched with rain, sometimes 
covered with snow, and not entertaining many handsome 
thoughts about the projected incursion into Canada. If 
successes were to be had, it would surprise me in the 
most agreeable manner, for the reason that I do not ex- 
pect any brilliant ones. Lake Champlain is too cold to 
produce one sprig of laurel ; and, if I am not starved, I 
shall be as proud as if I had gained three battles." 

On the 17th, he arrived at Albany. The boasted prep- 
arations had scarcely commenced. Instead of twenty- 
five hundred men, but little more than a thousand were 
collected, and these poorly provided for such an expedi- 
tion. General Stark, who, as Gates boastfully predicted, 
would have burnt the English flotilla at St. John's before 
the main army could anive there, had not even been no- 
tified that his services would be required. Generals 
Schuyler, Lincoln, and Arnold, had each sent in their 
written opinions, condemning the whole enterprise, in 



COMMANDS THE NORTHERN ARMY. '51 

the most emphatic manner, as altogether impracticable 
and preposterous. This was the universal sentiment of 
the north. Clothing, provisions, military stores, sledges 
for transportation, were all unprovided. The men who 
were there were not half furnished even for a summer 
campaign, besides having arrears of pay due them amount- 
ing to nearly a million of dollars, the want of which was 
already producing a serious disaffection in the ranks. 

Encompassed with these difficulties, and deeply cha- 
grined at the aspect of the enterprise, he wrote to Wash- 
ington, as to a father, expressing the fear that his reputa- 
tion would suffer from having his name connected with so 
ill-judged and ill-planned an expedition, and suggesting 
the possibility of turning to good account such prepara- 
tions as had already been made, by a sudden diversion to 
another quarter. Arnold favored an attack upon New 
York, but was too sick to accompany it. Lafayette de- 
sired anything which might save his command from the 
disgrace of a total failure. 

The projected invasion of Canada, though deemed im- 
practicable from the beginning, was not wholly aban- 
doned by its adventurous commander until the breaking 
up of the ice in March. Disappointed of the promised 
reinforcements, he conceived the bold idea of attempting 
to accomplish by sui-prise, with a detachment, the enter- 
prise which he had not means to prosecute in any other 
way. It was but a momentary thought, however, which 
mature deliberation pronounced rash and impossible. 
Carleton was too strongly posted to fear anything but a 
well-appointed army, and Lafayette, though ardent and 
fearless, was too prudent to risk anything for the love of 
adventure merely. 

As he concealed from every one but Washington his 
doubts and disgusts, and employed every means in his 
power to forward the expedition, even boiTowing money 



52 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

on his personal credit, to satisfy the demands of the sol- 
diers, it became at length a cause of serious alarm at 
Greorgetown, where Congi'ess was at that time assem- 
bled, lest he should push forward to the lake, and attempt 
the passage when it was too late to do so with safety. 
Orders were therefore issued, countermanding his origi- 
nal instructions, and recalling him to his former position 
in the main army, where, it was flatteringly said, his pres- 
ence was highly necessary. He had already, before the 
arrival of these orders, renounced the expedition. But, 
consistently with the position he assumed in accepting 
his command, he would not lay it down, though recalled 
by Congress, till he received the orders of the command- 
er-in-chief. " Till I have instructions for leaving the 
place from yourself," he wrote, " I shall stay, as power- 
ful commander-in-chief, as if Congress had never re- 
solved my presence absolutely necessary for the great 
army." 

During his brief residence at Albany, Lafayette had 
won the affection and confidence of all classes, and ren- 
dered some actual sei^ice to the cause in which he was 
engaged. The whole northern frontier was exposed to 
the merciless irruptions of the Indian tribes ; especially 
the Hurons and the Iroquois, who, being in the pay of 
the British, seized every occasion to plunder and harass 
the American settlements, often committing the greatest 
barbarities upon defenceless women and children. Find- 
ing that he must abandon his expedition to Canada, and 
conscious that he could not hope for means adequate to 
the protection of every part of so extensive a frontier, 
Lafayette resolved at least to do what he could. He 
directed that quarters for the accommodation of troops 
should be erected in many different places along the 
line, causing it to be announced as widely as possible, 
that garrisons would immediately be established in them 



COMMANDS THE NORTHERN ARMY. 53 

all. This stratagem made the Indians more cautious in 
their advances, it being an important part of their sys- 
tem of tactics to avoid danger whenever they can. 

The principal tribes in that quarter having been invi- 
ted to a conference with the American commissioners, 
Schuyler and Duane, at Johnstown, on the Mohawk, 
General Lafayette was requested to attend the meeting. 
The attachment of these tribes to the French had survived 
their loss of dominion in Canada; and though always 
ready, for British gold, to fight against Americans, they 
would probably at any time have preferred to return to 
their ancient allegiance. The French missionaries were 
still their instructors and religious guides. With the 
French language they were more familiar than with the 
English ; and when the young French chief addressed 
them, they listened with unusual attention. They receiv- 
ed his presents with marked satisfaction, and promised, for 
his sake, to abstain from further acts of hostility against his 
friends the Americans. They even adopted him as one of 
their own chiefs, giving him the name of Kayoula, by which 
one of their deceased warriors had been distinguished. 
The treaty thus entered into was for some time rigidly 
observed by a portion of the Indians, and, so far, had a 
happy effect in relieving the frontier ; and, if the Amer- 
ican purse had been as amply provided as the British, 
they would doubtless have been able, by the aid of their 
French allies,' to avert altogether the atrocities of those 
ruthless marauders. 

The effect of this visit was felt for a considerable time 
after. Whenever the aid of the Indians was required 
for any purpose, or any dealings with their chiefs be- 
came necessary, recourse was had to the name and credit 
of Kayoula, " whose necklaces and words were equally 
respected," 

In retiring fi'om this honorable command in the north, 
5* 



54 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

General Lafayette had the satisfaction, not only of hav- 
ing secured the approbation and increased the confi- 
dence of Washington, by the manner in which he had 
conducted, but also of receiving from Congress and the 
board of war a vote of thanks for his good conduct. 
The resolution of Congress, on this occasion, declared 
that that honorable body " entertained a high sense of 
the prudence, activity, and zeal, of General Lafayette, 
and that they are fully persuaded that nothing has, or 
would have been, wanting on his part, or on the part of 
his officers who accompanied him, to give the expedition 
the utmost possible effect." He had, however, a higher 
satisfaction within, than any such testimonials as these 
could afford- — the satisfaction of having been permitted 
to contribute his share in " turning into foolishness the 
counsels" of an unprincipled faction, who were aiming 
to aggrandize themselves by immolating, on the altar of 
their ambition, the only man who was able to guide, 
through all the storms that assailed it, the cause of lib- 
erty and of man. 



THE FRENCH ALLIANCE. 55 



CHAPTER V. 

THE FRENCH ALLIANCE BARREN-HILL RETREAT BAT- 
TLE OP MONMOUTH. 

General Lafayette returned to the camp, at Valley 
Forge, in season to witness something more of the priva- 
tions and hardships which the army had endured through 
that ten-ible winter. These were sufficiently severe at 
its commencement, before he departed for the north ; 
but they had increased in severity as the months passed 
on. Soon after his arrival, he was called upon to render 
a service of peculiar delicacy and importance to the 
army. An oath of allegiance had been prescribed by 
Congress, to be administered to all the officers in its 
service. It embraced an acknowledgment of the inde- 
pendence, liberty, and sovereignty, of the United States, 
an eternal renunciation of George III., his successors 
and heirs, and every king of England, and a promise to 
defend the states against any and all attempts of said 
George III. to reduce them again to his dominion. 
There were still many men in the army, as well as many 
private citizens, who had not fully made up their minds 
that the breach between the mother-country and her 
colonies could not, by suitable concessions on the part 
of England, be healed. Some, who would by no means 
submit to the exactions of the past, which they regarded 
rather as ministerial follies than royal encroachments, 
were not prepared to renounce for ever their allegiance 



56 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

to the crown. They were consequently reluctant to 
take the oath. When it was proposed to GJ-eneral Lee; 
he met it with the peculiar objection, that, though he 
had no scruples about renouncing for ever his allegiance 
to the king, he was not prepared to do the same with 
respect to the prince of Wales. 

The difficulty arising out of this matter was soon over- 
come by the delicate and judicious management of La- 
fayette, whose popularity and influence were universal, 
and whose good offices, in relation to this particular ob- 
ject, were duly acknowledged by the commander-in- 
chief and by Congress. 

But America was indebted to this ardent and devoted 
friend, or rather to a kind Providence through him, for 
another and higher influence, on which the question of 
her destiny seemed to turn. Though he left France 
against the express interdict of the king, pursued by the 
police to the very shore, and by the royal cruisers across 
the ocean, yet the act of leaving, under such circum- 
stances, had the effect, ultimately, to win over to the 
same cause the whole power and chivalry of France. 
Though denounced by the ministry and the court, as one 
who had disobeyed the express orders of his king, his 
conduct was heartily approved by the greater part of the 
brave cavaliers of the land. So enthusiastic was their 
admiration of the course he had taken, that it would not 
have been politic, or even safe, for the king to exercise 
his prerogative of punishment, by declaring the offender 
an outlaw and confiscating his property to the state. 

France was, and for ages had been, the natural enemy 
of England, and, by consequence, the natural ally of any 
power that was opposed to England. The entire suc- 
cess of the American states would, at any time, have 
electrified with joy the court and the people of France. 
They wished to see their rival humbled, and would even 



THE FRENCH ALLIANCE. 57 

submit to considerable sacrifices to promote that object; 
but at this particular crisis, when the nation was groan- 
ing under the weight of accumulated burdens, they were 
afi'aid of the expense of involving themselves in another 
war with England. It was rather from motives of pol- 
icy, therefore, than of hearty good will, that Louis XVI. 
and his crafty ministers frowned upon the chivalric en- 
tei'prise of the young marquis. They were obliged to 
put on the appearance of displeasure, to satisfy the 
watchful and suspicious emissaries of George III. 

The sentiment in favor of the struggling colonies was 
continually increasing in France. Some of the papers 
openly advocated their cause, and applauded, in unmeas- 
ured terms, the heroic conduct of Lafayette. Many 
brave old soldiers and young cavaliers were eager to 
follow his example ; and when the news of the surren- 
der of Burgoyne, and the bold and masterly conduct of 
Washington at Geraiantown, reached the ears of the 
monarchs of Europe, giving assurance of ultimate suc- 
cess, the tide of popular feeling set so strongly in favor 
of America, that the ministry was can'ied along with it. 
Franklin, Deane, and Lee, were recognised and received 
as commissioners. A treaty of mutual amity was nego- 
tiated, and the independence of the United States of 
America guarantied by the court of France. The gal- 
lant conduct and spirited coiTespondence of Lafayette 
had its full share in bringing about this great result, by 
creating such a current of popular opinion in its favor 
as no ministry, however reluctant at heart, would have 
dared to oppose. So manifest, even at that time, was 
the agency of Lafayette, in producing this favorable 
issue, that Franklin, Deane, and Lee, had no sooner 
been admitted to an audience with the king, than, with 
John Adams and other distinguished Americans who 
were then in Paris, they immediately called on Madame 



58 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

de Lafayette, and made a public acknowledgment of the 
indebtedness of their country to her husband. 

On the 13th of April, 1778, Simeon Deane, brother 
of the commissioner in Paris, and bearer of despatches, 
was landed, from the French frigate La Sensible, at Fal- 
mouth (now Portland), Maine, bringing the joyful intel- 
ligence of a treaty with France. He was hailed with 
enthusiastic joy in all the towns through which he 
passed, on his way to York, where he arrived on the 2d 
of May. "When Lafayette received his letters, announ- 
cing this arrival, he could scarcely contain his joy. He 
ran to General Washington, and embracing him, with 
tears of the deepest emotion, exclaimed : " The king, 
my master, has acknowledged your independence, and 
formed an alliance with you to secure and establish it." 

The joy was universal, and loudly expressed. A new 
confidence was infused into Congress, the army, and the 
people. On the 6th of May, the orders of the command- 
er-in-chief were issued, to have the event suitably ac- 
knowledged, in the following manner : " It having pleased 
the Almighty Ruler of the universe to defend the cause 
of the united American states, and finally to raise us up 
a powerful friend among the princes of the earth, to 
establish our liberty and independence upon a lasting 
foundation, it becomes us to set apart a day for grate- 
fully acknowledging the divine goodness, and celebra- 
ting the important event, which we owe to his divine 
interposition." 

Agreeably to these orders, the several brigades of the 
army were assembled at their respective places of pa- 
rade, on the morning of the 7th, where a full outline of 
the compact with France was communicated by the 
chaplains, followed by devout thanksgivings to God, and 
patriotic discourses upon the renewed obligations of 
American citizens. After some preparatory manoeuvres, 



BARREN HILL RETREAT. 59 

the whole army was formed into line, and a grand salute 
fired of thirteen heavy guns. This was followed by a 
brilliant running fire of all the infantry, through the 
whole" front line, from right to left, when it was imme- 
diately taken up by the rear line, and continued from 
left to right. Upon a signal then given, the whole ai-my 
shouted, '■'■ Ltong live the king of France /" — the echo, 
"king of France !" reverberating from the hills on ev- 
ery side, being blended with and lost in another dis- 
charge of thirteen rounds from the heavy artillery. A 
second general discharge of musketry, in a running fire 
as before, from right to left, and left to right, was suc- 
ceeded by the universal shout, " Long live the friendly 
European potcers /" Prefaced in the same brilliant 
manner, the last and loudest huzza was given to " The 
American States .'" which, rising on the breeze, was 
borne away to the distant hills, announcing, as if by a 
voice from heaven, that those states were now recog- 
nised in Europe as a free and independent nation. 

In all these festive demonstrations, General Lafayette 
and his French compatriots bore a conspicuous part, 
receiving, as the representatives of their nation, the 
homage of a grateful people. 

Under these encouraging auspices, the campaign of '78 
was opened with a confidence and spirit which few, if 
any, of the American leaders, had ever felt before. In 
the expectation of efiicient aid which was soon to amve 
from France, it was determined to make every effort to 
bring all their effective force into the field, and drive the 
enemy from his posts. With a view to obtain satisfac- 
tory intelligence of their position, as well as to protect 
the country on the north fi'om the ravages of foraging 
parties, two thousand four hundred men, under the com- 
mand of General Lafayette, were sent, on the 18th of 
May, across the Schuylkill to Barren hill, a position 



60 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

about equidistant from the two armies. This movement 
and its object were immediately reported to General 
Clinton by a spy, who had formerly been a soldier in 
the American army, and who still kept up a familiar but 
unsuspected intercourse with his old comrades. On re- 
ceiving this intelligence. General Clinton formed a plan 
for cutting off the whole detachment ; and so confident 
was he of success, that he invited several ladies of Phil- 
adelphia to sup with him on the evening of the following 
day, promising them the honor of an introduction to the 
young marquis de Lafayette. With this view, General 
Grant was detached, at the head of five thousand men, 
with orders to file off to the left, through Whitemarsh, 
so as to fall upon the rear of the American detachment. 
At the same time. General Grey, with two thousand men, 
marched up on the western bank of the Schuylkill, and 
took a station about two miles below Barren hill, on that 
side of the river ; while another corps, commanded by 
General Clinton in person, took the direct road from 
Philadelphia, and halted at Chestnut hill. 

Lafayette had chosen his position with the eye of a 
general, and disposed his men to great advantage. His 
camp occupied a commanding eminence, protected by 
the Schuylkill with its precipitous, rocky banks on the 
right, and by thick woods and some strong stone houses 
on the left. His cannon were well planted in front. A 
little in advance of his left wing was Captain M'Lane's 
company of riflemen, with about fifty young Indian war- 
riors, having charge of the woods, to prevent a sui-prise. 
The roads leading to Philadelphia were well guarded 
by light troops, accustomed to the service of videttes ; 
while General Porter, with six hundred Pennsylvania 
militia, was stationed on the road to Whitemarsh. A 
short distance in the rear of his encampment, on the left, 
there was a fork in the road, each branch leading to the 



BARREN HILL RETREAT. 61 

liver, one striking it at Matson's ford and the other at 
Swedes' ford, the latter being the direct road to the camp 
at Valley Forge. 

The movements of the enemy were quiet, stealthy, 
and unexpected. Their approach was not discovered by 
any of the argus-eyed outguards till the morning of the 
20th, when General Grant's column was within a mile, 
on Lafayette's left. When this intelligence reached him, 
he was in the act of commissioning a messenger to Phil- 
adelphia, in the person of a young woman, who, under 
pretence of visiting her friends in the city, had engaged 
to procure inforaiation of the movements and designs of 
the British. While eng^ag-ed in conversation with this 
woman, he was inforaied that a body of cavalry in red 
uniform was advancing from Whitemarsh. Expecting, 
according to previous arrangement, that a detachment 
of dragoons would join him from that quarter, the an- 
nouncement did not alarm him. He sent an officer, how- 
ever, to reconnoiti'e, and was soon informed that a strong 
column of the enemy, much superior in number to his 
own, was in full march along the road from Whitemarsh 
to Swedes' ford, and that the direct retreat to Valley 
Forge was cut off, the advanced guard of the enemy 
having already gained the fork. The picket coming in 
at the same time from the south, reported General Grey's 
column advancing on the Ridge road fi'om Philadelphia. 
The numbers and proximity of the enemy, and the ad- 
vanced position already gained by General Grant, ren- 
dered the situation of Lafayette and his detachment haz- 
ardous and critical in the extreme. 

The youthful general saw at a glance the full extent 
of his danger, and the absolute necessity of consummate 
prudence and instant action in order to effect his escape. 
With the gi'eatest promptness and decision, he changed 
his fi'ont, ordered a strong party to take possession of a 
6 



62 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

churchyard, which lay directly between his camp and the 
line of the enemy's advance, and drew up the remainder 
so that they were protected by the wood and the stone 
houses before mentioned. Perceiving that his only re- 
treat was by Matson's ford, he directed a rapid but or- 
derly advance on that road, at the same time sending out 
several small parties, with orders to show themselves, as 
heads of columns, at different points in the wood, hoping 
thus to deceive the enemy into the belief that his whole 
force was marching to an attack. In this manoeuvre he 
was entirely successful. On the appearance of these 
parties, making a bold front, Greneral Grant supposed 
they were sustained on their rear by the whole Ameri- 
can force, and, fearing they might attempt to turn his 
flank if he continued his march in column, he halted his 
troops and drew them up in order of battle. Availing 
himself of the time occupied in this movement, Lafayette 
drew off his main body in rapid march toward Matson's 
ford, that road being fortunately concealed from the view 
of the enemy by an intervening hill covered with wood. 
In a little time his heads of columns and pickets gradu- 
ally fell back and joined in the retreat. Having all 
arrived safely at the ford, they crossed the river, took 
possession of the high grounds on the other side, and 
prepared to receive the enemy, should he attempt to 
pursue them farther. His advanced parties reached the 
ford in season to annoy the American rear-guard, which 
was protecting the passage of the artillery. A slight 
skirmish took place, in which the Americans lost nine 
men killed and taken, and the enemy two dragoons killed 
and several wounded. 

When the two divisions of the British met at the 
church on Barren hill, their over-confident generals were 
surprised and chagrined to find that the bird had flown. 
They were quite sure that they had him in a net from 



BARREN HILL RETREAT. 63 

whicli he could not escape. They pushed on with all 
speed to the ford, but, findmg that the retreating party- 
was strongly posted on the other side of the stream, and 
ready to contest the passage, they abandoned the pursuit 
and returned immediately to Philadelphia. 

Lafayette obtained and deserved the highest praise 
for the prudence and skill with which he extricated him- 
self from this perilous position. He received the warm- 
est approbation of his beloved commander, and a vote 
of thanks from Congress, in which they styled his ma- 
noeuvre " a well-timed and masterly retreat." Nor was 
it through any want of proper military prudence on his 
part that he was brought into a situation of so much 
peril without due notice. The road to Whitemarsh had 
been provided with a sti'ong guard of six hundred men, 
under General Porter, who, for some unexplained rea- 
son, of which the general was not notified, had retired 
to another position, and left that road open to the enemy. 

This affair was one of the deepest interest to both the 
contending parties. Lafayette's detachment comprised 
the flower of the American aimy, and its loss would have 
been a severe if not an iiTeparable disaster. To give 
intensity to the interest of the occasion, the whole scene 
of his peril was distinctly viewed, by the aid of telescopes, 
from the camp at Valley Forge. His position was high, 
with a declivity toward the north, which exposed to the 
view of the observers at headquarters the encampment 
and the entire line of General Grant's march toward the 
Swedes' ford road. The road to Matson's ford was con- 
cealed from view. So that Washinsrton and his com- 

o 

peers had the pain of seeing their noble young friend 
surrounded with peril from which it seemed impossible 
to escape, without the power of following him in his 
masterly retreat. 

The British generals, on the other hand, were so sure 



64 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

of their prey before they started on the chase, that they 
were wholly unprepared for a disappointment. It is 
understood that General Howe, though not then in com- 
mand, accompanied the expedition, and that his brother, 
the admiral, was also present as a volunteer, flattering him- 
self that he should have the pleasure of conveying the 
young marquis as a prisoner to Europe. When the gen- 
erals met on the hill, they were both so overcome with 
vexation at the loss of their prey, that they almost quar- 
relled with each other. There was little time, however, 
for words. The alarm-guns fired at Valley Forge, to 
warn Lafayette of his danger, had given them the im- 
pression that the whole American force was coming down 
upon them. They therefore made all possible despatch 
in securing their own retreat. 

An amusing incident is related in connection with this 
enterprise. The young Indian warriors, who were placed 
near Captain M'Lane's company, in ambush among the 
trees, had never seen an English dragoon. When, there- 
fore, a party of these fierce-looking cavaliers, with their 
huge bearskin caps and fiery costume, advancing rapidly 
along the road, came suddenly upon the ambuscade, the 
terrified savages raised a horrible yell, threw down their 
arms, and escaped by swimming across the Schuylkill. 
The dragoons, on the other hand, had recently arrived 
in the country, and had not yet encountered an Indian 
foe. Equally astounded and terrified by the sudden ap- 
parition and the unearthly yell, they turned suddenly 
about, without firing a pistol, and never looked behind 
them till they reached Philadelphia. 

On the arrival of the commissioners with Lord North's 
proposals of conciliation,, a new excitement arose, in 
which General Lafayette was destined to act a conspic- 
uous part. The door to reconciliation with the mother- 
country was hopelessly closed, long before this arrival. 



PROPOSALS OF CONCILIATION. &5 

The Declaration of Independence, notwithstanding some 
differences of opinion among the people, had settled that 
point for ever. It was the Magna Charta of America. 
The oath of renunciation and allegiance administered to 
the officers of the army, and the resolutions of Congress of 
the 22d of April, before the arrival of the commissioners, 
and before the treaty with France was announced, de- 
claring that " the United States could not with propriety 
hold any conference or treaty with any commissioners on 
the part of Great Britain, unless they shall, as preliminary 
thereto, either withdraw their fleets and armies, or else in 
positive and express terms acknowledge the indepen- 
dence of said states," were the double bars and bolts that 
secured the ark where that charter was deposited. And 
the ratification of the treaty with France, in which, while 
she guarantied our independence and liberty, we sol- 
emnly pledged ourselves not to listen to any proposal for 
relinquishing it, placed a seal upon those bolts which few 
would have been so hardy as to break, even if they had 
desired to do so. 

The commissioners were not admitted to an interview 
with Congress, the essential preliminary above contem- 
plated, not having been attended to. Among the papers 
transmitted by them to Congress was an address to that 
honorable body, the reading of which was called for as 
soon as it was announced by the president. The paper 
contained, among other offensive matters, expressions 
which were regarded as highly disrespectful to the king 
of France. At that point the reading was interrupted. 
The house directed the president to seal up the papers, 
and immediately adjourned. When the subject was re- 
sumed the next day, the 17th of June, it was only to re- 
iterate the resolution of the 22d of April, and assure the 
commissioners of their perfect readiness to make peace 
whenever the king of Great Britain should manifest a 
6* 



66 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

disposition to do so, " the only solid proof of which would 
be an explicit acknowledgment of the independence of 
these states, or the withdrawal of his fleets and armies." 

The offensive passage in the address was in these 
words : " We can not but remark the insidious interpo- 
sition of a power which has, from the first settlement of 
the colonies, been actuated by enmity to us both ; and, 
notwithstanding the pretended date, or present form, of 
the French offers to North America, it is notorious that 
they have only been made, because it was believed that 
Great Britain had conceived the design of an amicable 
arrangement, and with a view to prevent reconciliation, 
and prolong this destructive war." 

By orders from the minister of war, the British gen- 
eral prepared to evacuate Philadelphia as soon as it was 
ascertained that the terms of conciliation would not be 
accepted by Congress. The war was now to be prose- 
cuted with the utmost vigor. The olive-branch was with- 
drawn, and absolute, unconditional submission, at the 
point of the bayonet, proposed in its stead. From New 
York, as the central post, the thunder-bearing ships and 
the armed legions were to be sent forth in all directions 
to ravage the country, to lay waste the towns and vil- 
lages, that so rebellion might be crushed under the iron 
hoof of Mars. 

The evacuation took place on the 17th of June. Sir 
Henry Clinton led the army in person across the Jer- 
seys, moving by slow and easy marches, and apparently 
inviting an attack. The army of Washington, which was 
of nearly equal force, left its quarters at Valley Forge at 
the same time, and took the road to Coryell's ferry, with 
the purpose of hanging on the rear of the enemy, and 
taking advantage of every opportunity that might offer to 
annoy him. It was a question in the council of war, upon 
which the officers were seriously divided, whether they 



BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 67 

should allow the foe to pass unmolested to New York, 
and content themselves with merely taking possession of 
the ground, by establishing their camp at White Plains, 
or endeavor to weaken him as they went, by falling on 
his rear, or offering him battle. Lee, Stirling, and sev- 
eral others, were opposed to fighting, on the ground 
that the advantage wa& too much in favor of the enemy. 
Others, among whom Lafayette was one of the most ur- 
gent, contended that it would be dishonorable to them- 
selves, and unjust to the army, to allow so favorable an 
opportunity to pass, when they had the choice of the time 
and mode of attack. To this opinion, in which he was 
ably supported by General Greene, the commander-in- 
chief was strongly inclined. But the majority seconded 
the views of Lee. 

Confident in his ability to meet the enemy, and satis- 
fied that the interests of his cause demanded the trial, 
Washington called another council, in which his views 
were again negatived by a decided majority. Finding, 
however, that some of his officers on whom he placed the 
greatest reliance not only supported his views, but were 
ready to take the lead in any plan of operations which 
he might direct, he resolved to take the entire respon- 
sibility upon himself. He was then in the vicinity of 
Princeton, and the British army was on its march, by 
way of Crosswicks and Allentown, toward Monmouth. 
Major-General Dickerson, with about one thousand of 
the Jersey militia, and a brigade of continentals, com- 
manded by General Maxwell, kept close on its track, 
and observed and reported all its movements. Gen- 
eral Cadwallader and Colonel Morgan, with their re- 
S2:)ective coi*ps, were also in pursuit, hanging on the right 
flank and rear of the enemy. 

On the 24th of June, Brigadier-General Scott was de- 
tached, with a chosen corps of fifteen hundred men, to 



68 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

reinforce Greneral Maxwell. The next day, Brigadier- 
General Wayne followed with a thousand select troops, 
accompanied by Major-General Lafayette, who had com- 
mand of the whole force. This command, which was in 
the highest degree honorable and important, devolved 
of right upon General Lee. But that officer having op- 
posed with all his eloquence the hazard of the present 
expedition, thought proper to decline the post. It was 
immediately solicited and obtained by Lafayette, much 
to the satisfaction of Washington, who rejoiced in having 
so good an opportunity of showing his entire confidence 
in the ability and prudence of the young marquis. 

He was no sooner gone, than General Lee changed 
his mind, and addressed a note to the commander-in- 
chief, apologizing for his " rash assent" to the arrange- 
ment, and claiming the right to have it reversed, de- 
claring that, in case of action on the part of so large and 
important a detachment, under the command of their 
junior, both he and Lord Stirling would be disgraced. 
Willing to gratify Lee, and desirous, at the same time, 
of saving the feelings of Lafayette, the former was imme- 
diately detached, with two additional brigades, to sup- 
port the latter. As senior officer, he would, of course, 
have command of the whole division ; but he was spe- 
cially instructed, in case General Lafayette had already 
undertaken any definite enterprise against the enemy, 
that he should be permitted to carry it through without 
interference. With this understanding, Lee joined the 
detachment at English Town, and assumed the command 
of the whole division, leaving to Lafayette only that of 
the militia and the light-horse. It was with the greatest 
reluctance that the latter yielded a position he had so 
much coveted ; but when General Lee appealed to his 
generosity, saying, " It is my fortune and my honor that 
I place in your hands ; you are too generous to cause 



BATTLE OP MONMOUTH. 69 

the loss of both," he waived his right, and retired to his 
subordinate command. 

Meanwhile, before the arrival of Lee, Lafayette had 
pressed boldly forward, and taken a position on com- 
manding ground, not far from Monmouth, and about five 
miles in the rear of the enemy, with the intention of 
leading on the attack as soon as he should take up his 
line of march in the morning. The main araiy having 
moved on to CranbeiTy, this advanced corps was found 
to be too far on the right, to be easily reinforced, in 
case of coming to close action, and Lafayette received 
orders from Washington to file off toward English 
Town. This was done early in the morning of the 
27th. 

Sir Henry Clinton having taken a strong position on 
the heights of Freehold, it was not deemed prudent to 
assail him there ; but as there would be no chance of 
operating successfully against him, if he should succeed 
in reaching the heights of Middletown, it was detennined 
to attack his rear, as soon as he should move from his 
encampment. Orders to this effect were sent to G-en- 
eral Lee, and corresponding preparations were made 
with the main division. 

The subsequent details of this battle belong rather to 
the history of the war and to the private memoirs of 
Washington and Lee, than to those of Lafayette. The 
part he took in it was subordinate, and dependent upon 
the orders and movements of others, and consequently 
afforded little opportunity for the display of military 
talent. The unexpected retreat of Lee, the disorder 
and confusion consequent thereupon, the sudden arrival 
of Washington, the renewed attack, the decisive advan- 
tages gained by the American arms, and the silent aban- 
donment of the field by the English, under cover of the 
night, notwithstanding the manifest desire of Washing- 



70 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ton to renew the battle, are recorded in all the chronicles 
of the day. 

The position of General Lafayette in this engagement 
was in the left wing, under the immediate command of 
General Lee. The light-horse companies of his detach- 
ment, being brought into immediate conflict with the 
queen's dragoons, were soon routed. The militia could 
hardly be expected to stand their ground, whoever led 
them, when the whole division, under superior orders, 
had commenced a retreat. When, through the presence 
and active exertions of Washington, Lee's flying squad- 
rons rallied, and the inglorious retreat was changed 
into an impetuous charge, and a decided repulse of the 
enemy, Lafayette was in the thickest of the fray, and 
won the admiration of all around him, for his coolness, 
intrepidity, and skill. Colonel Willet, of New York, 
who acted as aid to General Scott, of the Virginia line, 
and w^s under the immediate command of Lafayette, 
was particularly enthusiastic in his commendation of the 
youthful hero. " I have been charmed," said he, " with 
the gallantry and sagacity of the marquis de Lafayette, 
who appears to be possessed of every requisite to con- 
stitute a great general." 

But gallantry and intrepid courage were not the only 
virtues he displayed on this brilliant occasion. The 
truly brave are always generous and humane. A truly 
heroic soul can not be a selfish one. Having approach- 
ed, with a small escort, within reach of the enemy's guns, 
for the purpose of reconnoitring their position, his aide- 
de-camp and friend was struck by a ball, and fell at his 
side. The ofiicers and soldiers fled precipitately from 
the spot ; but the general would not abandon his friend, 
while a chance remained of saving his life. He hastened 
to his side, and, leaning over him, addressed him in tones 
of kindness and aflection. But it was too late ; the work 



k'':':.-l' ■■''■,..:_::■ .'^''^v^v 



.M\Mi 



mm. 



%ife 




1 



BATTLE OF MONMOUTH. 71 

of death was already done. Turning away with deep 
emotion, he left the place with slow and mournful steps, 
and presently rejoined his escort, who awaited his coming 
at a safe distance from the fatal battery. It is said that 
Sir Henry Clinton was present in person at this scene ; 
and recognising the young marquis, by the snow-white 
charger which he always rode, was so touched by his 
heroic magnanimity and manly grief, that he command- 
ed the gunners to cease firing, and suffered him to retire 
unmolested. How beautifully are the harsh and revolt- 
ing features of war relieved by such noble traits of hu- 
manity as these ! and how lamentable that men, who, 
even when ari'ayed in deadly strife against each other, 
are alive to such sentiments, and moved by such sym- 
pathies, should ever feel it necessary to resort to the 
sword for the settlement of their differences, whether 
national or personal. 



72 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Lafayette's services in rhode island — his return 

to france. 

Early in July, the French fleet, consisting of twelve 
vessels, under command of the count d'Estaing, arrived 
in the offing at New York, to aid, agreeably to the terms 
of the treaty, in establishing the independence of the 
United States. M. Girard, a minister duly accredited to 
the young republic, accompanied the fleet. This arrival 
was an occasion of the sincerest satisfaction to Lafayette, 
and soon procured for him the honor of an active and 
useful service. 

He was still in official discredit at Versailles. " The 
last mark of attention," to use his own words, " with 
which the court had honored him, had been an order to 
arrest him in the West Indies." He consequently re- 
ceived no letters by the fleet; but Count d'Estaing, re- 
specting his character, and perceiving the elevated stand 
he had taken in America, honored him with special 
marks of attention and confidence. 

It was the design of the count, and the wish of Coii- 
gi'ess, to make an immediate attack on the headquarters 
of the British at New York ; but not being able, in con- 
sequence of the heavy draught of his ships, to enter the 
harbor, it was resolved to make an attack on General 
Pigot, at Newport, in Rhode Island. The British gaiTison, 
at that time, consisted of six thousand effective troops, 



SERVICES IN RHODE ISLAND. 73 

in a strong position, with excellent defences and ample 
military appointments. General Sullivan commanded the 
American force in that quarter, which, for this emer- 
gency, was to be augmented by large draughts upon 
the New England militia. His headquarters were at 
Providence. On the 21st of July, Lafayette was de- 
tached from the army at Wliite Plains, with two brigades 
of continentals, to support Sullivan. He was immedi- 
ately followed by General Greene, who, besides beino- 
one of the ablest commanders in the American aiTny, 
was a native of Rhode Island, and possessed great per- 
sonal influence with the people. On his arrival, he took 
command of the right wing, under Sullivan, Lafayette 
being at the head of the left. 

The French fleet aiTived at Newj^ort on the 25th. A 
plan of operations was immediately concerted, to dis- 
lodge the British garrison. The French fleet was to 
enter the harbor, and land a body of troops on the west 
side of the island, while the Americans, under cover of 
the guns of a frigate, should land on the opposite shore. 

Everything being in readiness, on the 8th of August, 
the French squadron entered the harbor of Newport, 
discharging heavy broadsides into the town, and receiv- 
ing the fire of the batteries, but without material damage 
to either party. Some reinforcements of militia which 
were expected to co-operate in this enterprise not havino- 
arrived, Sullivan sent a message to the French admiral, 
proposing to postpone the attack till the next day. The 
fleet accordingly retired down the bay. Having ascer- 
tained at early dawn the next day, that the British de- 
fences on the northern part of the island had been aban- 
doned during the night, and deeming it necessary to take 
immediate possession of the works, Sullivan crossed over 
with his whole army, at Howland's feriy, and occupied 
the deserted posts. 



¥ 



74 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 



II 



The French commander was displeased with this move- 
ment, in which he and his troops were not allowed to co- 
operate, as it deprived them of their just share in the 
honors of the day. He contended that it was his own! 
demonstration of the previous day which led to the evacu-* 
ation of the fortresses, and to him belonged the honor of 
taking possession. In this, however just might have been 
his claim to precedence, he was more punctilious than 
wise, and, as the result proved, sacrificed the whole expe- 
dition to a point of etiquette. The day was lost in dis- 
cussion, which should have been given to action. Sulli- 
van, when he sent to inform the count of his new position, 
proposed an immediate attack ; but that gentleman's 
resentment was so great, that he not only refused to 
move, but even to reply to the message. 

The next day, the French fleet had other business to 
do than to attack Newport. A British fleet appeared in 
the offing, and Count d'Estaing found it necessary to 
do the same thing which Sullivan had done two days 
before, that is, to accommodate his motions to this new 
emergency without consulting the American commander. 
The wind being favorable, he put out to sea in quest of 
the British ships, after sending word to G-eneral Sul- 
livan that, on his return to port, he would pursue any 
course with respect to the intended attack which the 
American commander might then deem proper. 

As Lord Howe did not consider it prudent, on his part, 
to attempt the succor of General Pigot while the French 
fleet held possession of the bay, it is difficult to imagine 
on what grounds the count was induced to relinquish so 
great an advantage, at the very moment when everything 
was ready for decided action. Had he first made the 
contemplated attack on Newport, he might, and prob- 
ably would, after accomplishing the highest hopes of the 
expedition, have gone forth, in the very flush of one vie- 



SERVICES IN RHODE ISLAND. 75 

tory on land, to seek and secure another on his own 
appropriate element. But Providence ordered it oth- 
erwise. The British garrison escaped, and jealousies 
were kindled and excitements produced, which for a 
time disturbed the whole country, and threatened even 
to nullify all the great and permanent advantages which 
were expected to result from the French alliance* A 
violent storm prevented the engagement of the two hos- 
tile fleets, doing such material damage to the ships of 
both as to render them unfit for action. Lord Howe re- 
turned to New York for repairs; and Count d'Estaing, 
after an absence of nine days, regained the harbor of 
Newport. 

In the meantime, the expected reinforcements of mili- 
tia from New Hampshire and Massachusetts had arrived, 
increasing Sullivan's effective force to ten thousand men, 
and it was deemed advisable at once to commence the 
siege. Greneral L afayette remonstrated against proceed- 
ing to active operations before the return of the count, 
on the twofold ground that his presence and co-operation 
were essential to success, and that new offence would be 
taken, should they make any decisive move in his ab- 
sence. There was, however, a necessity for immediate 
action. The army, composed mostly of volunteer mili- 
tia, who had only for a few days exchanged their scythes 
and sickles for swords and bayonets, to meet a sudden 
emergency, could not long be held together, except by 
the pressure of imminent danger or active service. La- 
fayette's opinion was consequently oven'uled by the ma- 
jority in council, and Sullivan with his army encamped 
before Newport on the fifth day after the departure of 
the French. His situation was critical and alarming ; 
since, by the departure of the fleet, the door was thrown 
wide open for the entrance of any succors by which the 
British general might wish to reinforce the town, or cut 



^ LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

off the reti'eat of the besiegers. On the evening of the 
19th, all apprehensions on this account were relieved 
by the reappearance of the fleet. 

But Sullivan was doomed to a second disappoint- 
ment, more bitter than the first. Count d'Estaing had 
only put into the bay to inform him that it was impos- 
sible to render any assistance at that time, as he was 
obliged, by the tenor of his instructions, to go to Bos- 
ton for repairs. The American commander employed 
arguments and persuasions, entreaties and remonstran- 
ces, in the hope of reversing this fatal decision. Gen- 
erals Greene and Lafayette were deputed to wait on the 
admiral in person, with instructions to urge everything 
which might induce a compliance with their wishes. 

This commission, though faithfully executed, was un- 
successful. With the ardor and eaniestness of men 
personally interested in the result, they represented to 
the count the vast importance, not only to America but 
to France, of striking an early and decisive blow. They 
urged the absolute certainty of success ; requiring, for 
that end, a delay on his part of two days only. They 
painted, in glowing colors, the brilliancy of the exploit, 
which should reduce to submission, at one stroke, a well- 
appointed garrison of six thousand chosen troops, and 
the corresponding reproach that would be cast upon the 
allied arms, if so favorable an opportunity for distinction 
should be causelessly thrown away, and the beleaguered 
enemy suffered to escape unharmed. They pressed 
the consideration that everything was ready on the part 
of the Americans, and that, in the view of both nations 
and the world, the failure of the entei'prise must be 
chargeable solely to the untimely withdrawal of their 
new allies, whom the common enemy had earnestly en- 
deavored to persuade them they would find always more 
ready to promise than to perform — always more ready 



SERVICES IN RHODE ISLAND. * 77 

to negotiate a treaty for mutual benefit, tlian to cai-ry 
it into effect. To that enemy it would be a double 
triumph, to see so formidable and promising an expedi- 
tion melt away into nothing, and to be able, tauntingly, 
to say, " We forewarned you of this. Behold the broken 
reed on which you have chosen to lean. Its first act has 
involved you in loss and disgrace, when it might easily 
have secured you a triumph. From such friends you 
have more to fear than even from your enemies." 

It was further suggested, and with ample reason, that, 
in the shattered condition of the fleet, it would incur 
a new hazard in attempting the difficult navigation of 
the Nantucket shoals and Cape Cod; while its present 
position offered equal facilities for refitting with Boston, 
and far greater advantages for annoying the enemy. To 
these arguments were added an earnest entreaty that no 
personal or private considerations should be allowed to 
affect a decision, on which so many and so gi-eat public 
interests were suspended. It was all in vain. The count, 
inflexible in his purpose, sailed for Boston on the 22d 
of August. 

When Lafayette and Greene returaed to the army 
with this report, it awakened the most lively emotions 
of indignation and regret. Loud murmurs, not un- 
mixed with bitter execrations, ran from rank to rank, 
and the same feeling of intense disappointment and re- 
gret pervaded the whole country. Sullivan, seeing a 
glorious and certain achievement wrenched from his 
very grasp, was chagrined and excited beyond measure. 
In the forlorn hope of yet saving the expedition from 
utter failure, he despatched Lieutenant-Colonel Laurens, 
in a fast-sailing clipper, to overtake the fleet, with an- 
other message of earnest remonstrance to Count d'Es- 
taing, against so singular an abandonment of an enter- 
prise of his own suggesting, and pressing him, in any 
7* 



78 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

event, if he must withdraw his ships, to leave behind his 
land-forces. This was accompanied by a protest, signed 
by all the general officers of Sullivan's command, except 
Lafayette, setting forth, in terms of emphatic earnest- 
ness, the views they entertained of his conduct, and the 
poignant regret and disappointment, not of the army 
alone, but of the whole country, at his unexpected de- 
parture from the scene of action. The count was deeply 
wounded and displeased with the terms of the protest, 
but, unmoved by its arguments and appeals, held on his 
course to Boston. 

Thus disconcerted in his plan of operation, G-eneral 
Sullivan was subjected to the additional mortification of 
seeing his own force, which, by extraordinary exertions, 
he had augmented to ten thousand, dwindle away to 
something less than half that number. The neighboring 
militia, who, with the promise of efficient aid, and the 
expectation of instant and decided action, had rushed to 
the rescue at a moment's warning, seeing now no hope 
of accomplishing any good purpose, rushed back to their 
farms and their firesides, with a sullen deteimination not 
again to leave them, till the trumpet should give forth a 
less " uncertain sound." 

In the course of a few days, the army was so reduced 
that it became necessary to raise the siege, and retire to 
the post recently abandoned by the enemy, at the north 
end of the island. Having entrenched himself in this 
position. General Sullivan resolved to make one effiDrt 
more to induce Count d'Estaing to return, and lend the 
aid of his fleet, to accomplish the object he had so much 
at heart. For this purpose, recourse was had, a second 
time, to the good offices of General Lafayette, who, in 
company with General Hancock, of the Massachusetts 
militia, proceeded to Boston, to seek an interview with 
the French commandant. 



SERVICES IN RHODE ISLAND. 79 

Had this mission proved successful in its main object, 
the aid it solicited would have aiTived too late. In 
breaking up his camp before Newport, Sullivan used 
every precaution to prevent the enemy from gaining an 
advantage over him. Retiring in perfect silence, under 
cover of the night, his motions were not obsei*ved till he 
had nearly effected his object. As soon as the dawn 
revealed his retreat to General Pigot, he issued forth in 
two heavy columns, and fell upon the rear. Stung with 
vexation and disappointment, in view of his changed 
position, and nerved to tenfold resolution by the events 
which had just transpired, Sullivan turned upon his pur- 
suers and offered instant battle. A warm action ensued, 
in which the Americans displayed the most admirable 
coolness and resolution, and repulsed the enemy with 
considerable loss. The fighting continued through the 
day. The day following, a distant cannonade was kept 
up on both sides, but neither party was inclined to risk 
a general engagement. 

General Pigot was hourly expecting reinforcements 
fi'om New York. Sullivan, being duly advised of their 
embarkation, silently abandoned his post on the island, 
and crossed over, with his whole force, to the main land. 
So judiciously was this manoeuvre planned, and so hand- 
somely executed, that the enemy had no intimation of 
the movement till it was effected. When Lafayette re- 
ceived intelligence of the retreat of Sullivan, he hastened 
back from Boston, and arrived at his post in season to 
render essential service in covering the rear. A more 
timely retreat was never made. The next day, the 31st 
of August, Sir Henry Clinton aiTived in the bay, with 
twelve ships-of-war, and large reinforcements of men. 
Thus ended this unfortunate expedition to Rhode Island. 
But the feeling of disgust, which it everywhere excited, 
did not end here. Diligently and skilfully fomented by 



80 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

British influence, it broke out, in several places, into 
acts of open hostility. 

The part borne by General Lafayette, in these trying 
scenes, was as magnanimous as it was difficult. To an 
interest in the cause of American independence, as deep 
and sincere as that of the best and bravest of her own 
sons, he added an honest, earnest loyalty to his native 
land, and a patriot's pride in all that concerned her 
honor. While he shared in all the disappointment and 
regret of the army to which he was attached, and the 
people of his adoption, he was, as a Frenchman, keenly 
alive to every indignity offered to the crown and flag of 
France in the person of her military representative. He 
suffered alike from the caprice and captiousness of Count 
d'Estaing, and from the severe though merited animad- 
versions of Sullivan and his associates. In all this, he 
maintained the dignity and self-respect of the French- 
man, without compromising, in any degree, the ardor 
and fidelity of his attachment to America, or lessening 
the confidence of his American friends in the heartiness 
of his devotion to their cause. 

Having withdrawn his army from the immediate vi- 
cinity of the enemy. General Sullivan re-established his 
headquarters at Providence. The posts near Newport 
were left in charge of Lafayette, whose quarters were 
fixed at Bristol. In a few days he repaired again to 
Boston, where his presence and influence were required 
to sooth the excited passions of the multitude, and re- 
store harmony and good feeling between his countrymen 
and the Americans, which, recently so cordial and en- 
thusiastic, seemed about to be changed into bitterness. 
Some of the leading men in Boston were so deeply ex- 
cited, that it was feared the necessary facilities for re- 
pairing the shattered fleet would be withheld. Lafay- 
ette succeeded, however, in calming the angry elements ; 



SERVICES IN RHODE ISLAND. 81 

his easy access to both parties, and his universal popu- 
larity, giving him a preponderating influence in the 
councils of each. This commission fulfilled, and no 
prospect remaining of active sei'vice at the north, he re- 
turned to the main army, then stationed in the highlands 
of New York. 

During his absence, the English commissioners had 
been employing all the means in their powder to create 
an interest among the masses of the people in favor of a 
reconciliation w^ith Great Britain. In pursuing this ob- 
ject, they had made a free use of the temporary disaf- 
fection toward France. In a public letter, widely cir- 
culated, bearing the signature of " Carlisle," the French 
nation was taxed with " a perfidy too universally ac- 
knowledged to require any new proof ^ 

Not satisfied with the warmth of American indigna- 
tion, in view of this and similar insulting language, the 
patriotic pride of Lafayette demanded some further 
notice of the indignity. He could not silently allow 
these aspersions upon the character of his royal master. 
Deeming the earl of Carlisle, who was at the head of 
the commission, the principal aggressor, he addressed 
him a note, repelling the unhandsome reflection upon 
his country, and demanding either a gentlemanly retrac- 
tion of the offensive words, or personal satisfaction in 
the field. Washington would have overruled his friend 
in this matter, if his prudent counsels had been listened 
to. He acknowledged that ground of ofience existed, but 
argued beforehand that the challenge would be declined 
on considerations of a public nature, and that, for this rea- 
son, it would be wiser and more prudent to take no notice 
of the matter. The earl, on receiving the challenge, treat- 
ed it as Washington had predicted, refusing to grant, in 
relation to a matter of public concern, in which he could 
only be regarded as the representative of his sovereign, 



82 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

speaking in his name and by his orders, that kind of 
satisfaction, which, however admissible, in case of mere 
personal differences, should be reserved for such alone. 
In this case, Lafayette was led to do, in the ardor of 
youth, and in the heat of military pride, what the better 
judgment of his mature years condemned. In writing 
of this incident, some forty years after, he says : " Car- 
lisle was right." Many of his best friends, no doubt, re- 
gretted his course at the time, as uncalled for and inju- 
dicious ; but there were few, if any, at that day, who 
were prepared to condemn it as immoral. So far as his 
reputation and standing were concerned, the effect was 
favorable. It increased his popularity and consequence 
with the American army and people, gratified his friends 
in Europe, and gained him favor with the king and court 
of France, who were somewhat disposed to pardon his 
past contumacy, on witnessing so conspicuous a proof 
of the loyalty of his heart, and the sincerity of his pat- 
riotism. 

The ground tal^en by the earl, his antagonist, was un- 
questionably the true one. It was no reflection upon 
his courage, that he declined the duel. He did it upon 
high and acknowledged principles ; and it was greatly 
to his credit, as a brave and honorable man, that he lis- 
tened to the voice of reason rather than to that of pas- 
sion, in a case where passion usually has the most influ- 
ence, and where the sentiment of the multitude was sure 
to be against him. 

France was now at war with England, and with other 
powers on the continent ; and Greneral Lafayette, though 
bound by stronger ties than ever to the cause of Amer- 
ica, felt that the first duty of every soldier was to serve 
his native country. Under this impulse, he addressed a 
letter to Congress, soliciting a temporary leave of ab- 
sence, that he might offer his services to his king. " As 



RETURN TO FRANCE. 83 

long as there were any hopes," says his letter, " of an 
active campaign, I did not think of leaving the field. 
Now, that I see a very peaceable and undisturbed mo- 
ment, I take this opportunity of waiting on Congress. 
In case my request is granted, I shall so manage my de- 
parture as to be certain, before going off, that the cam- 
paign is really over. Enclosed, you will find a letter 
from his excellency General Washington, expressing his 
assent to my getting leave of absence. I dare flatter 
myself that I shall he looked upon as a soldier on fur- 
lough, who most heartily wishes again to join his colors 
and his most esteemed and beloved fellow-soldiers. If 
I can be in any way useful to America, in my absence, 
I trust I shall always be considered as a man deeply in- 
terested in the welfare of the United States, and enter- 
taining the most profound affection, regard, and confi- 
dence, for their representatives." 

This application was honored with a most respectful 
and flattering attention, resulting in the following reso- 
lutions : — 

" 1778. In Congress, October 21. Resolved, That the 
marquis de Lafayette, major-general in the service of 
the United States, have leave to go to France, and that he 
return at such time as shall be most convenient to him. 

*' Resolved, That the president write a letter to the 
marquis de Lafayette, returning him the thanks of Con- 
gress for that distinguished zeal which led him to Amer- 
ica, and for the services he has rendered to the United 
States, by the exertion of his courage and abilities on 
many signal occasions. 

*' Resolved, That the minister plenipotentiary of the 
United States of America at the court of Versailles be 
directed to cause an elegant sword, with proper devices, 
to be made, and presented, in the name of the United 
States, to the marquis de Lafayette." 



84 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

" October 22. Resolved^ That the following letter of 
recommendation be written to the king of France : — 

" To our great, faithful, and beloved friend and ally, 
Louis the Sixteenth, king of France and Navarre : The 
marquis de Lafayette having obtained our leave to re- 
turn to his native country, we could not suffer him to 
depart, without testifying our deep sense of his zeal, 
courage, and attachment. We have advanced him to 
the rank of major-general in our armies, which, as well 
by his prudent as his spirited conduct, he has manifestly 
merited. We recommend this young nobleman to your 
majesty's notice, as one whom we know to be wise in 
council, gallant in the field, and patient under the hard- 
ships of war. His devotion to his sovereign has led 
him, in all things, to demean himself as an American ; 
acquiring thereby the confidence of these United States, 
your good and faithful friends and allies, and the affec- 
tion of their citizens. We pray God to keep your maj- 
esty in his holy protection." 

M. Girard, the French minister, in closing his de- 
spatches to his government, at this time, uses the fol- 
lowing language : " I ought not to terminate this long 
despatch, without rendering to the wisdom and dexterity 
of the marquis de Lafayette, in the part he has taken in 
these discussions, the justice which is due to his merits. 
He has given most salutary counsels, authorized by his 
friendship and experience. The Americana have strong- 
ly solicited his return with the troops which the king 
may send. He has replied with a due sensibility, but 
with an entire resignation to the will of the king. I can 
not forbear saying, that the conduct, equally prudent, 
courageous, and amiable, of the marquis de Lafayette, 
has made him the idol of the Congress, the army, and 
the people, of America. A high opinion is entertained 
of his military talents. You know how little I am in- 



RETURN TO FRANCE. 85 

clined to adulation ; but I should be wanting in justice, 
if I did not transmit to you these testimonials, which are 
here in the mouth of all the world." 

The letters of General Washington were equally flat- 
tering and kind. The officers and soldiers of the army 
expressed the deepest affection for his person, and the 
most exalted admiration of his conduct. There was a 
universal sentiment of regret at his departure, accompa- 
nied with a cordial and unanimous approval of the mo- 
tive and spirit by which he was actuated. 

With these testimonials, and loaded with the gratitude 
of a nation, he took leave of his devoted friends in camp 
and city, and set out on his journey to Boston, where the 
frigate Alliance was ordered to be in readiness to convey 
him home. The labors, fatigues, and agitations of re- 
cent events, and particularly the grief of mind he had 
experienced in the ill-fated expedition to Rhode Island, 
had seriously undermined his health, and induced a strong 
tendency to fever. Exposed on horseback to the chilly 
winds and frequent rains of autumn, these symptoms 
had increased to such an alarming extent on his arrival 
at Fishkill, then the headquarters of General Macdougal, 
that he was compelled to sun-ender to the care of the 
surgeon. He Avas soon reduced to the last extremity 
by inflammatory fever. He was three months detained 
under the medical care of Doctor Cochrane, the princi- 
pal surgeon of the army, during which his life was for a 
time despaired of. In prospect of this impending ca- 
lamity, the army and the nation were afflicted. Washing- 
ton, whose headquarters at that time were not many 
miles distant, exhibited the most intense paternal anxi- 
ety, visiting him daily, and conjuring the attending physi- 
cian to watch over him as if he were his own son, adding, 
with emotion, " I love him as truly as if he were so." 

These charges were by no means necessary to secure 
8 



86 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

the kindest and most faithful nursing. The patient was 
equally dear to every officer in the army. He was 
known in the camp as the "soldier's friend;" and anx- 
ious looks and eager inquiries on every side testified to 
the sincere attachment of the whole army to the youthful 
general, and their absorbing solicitude for his speedy 
restoration. His sufferings were very great, and his pros- 
pect of recovery exceedingly slight. The fever raged, 
with great violence, accompanied with severe pains in 
his head, though he was not at any time deprived of his 
reason. He was conscious of his danger, and prepared 
himself to meet his fate with composure. It was hard 
to bring himself to think of taking so sudden and early 
a leave of his devoted friends, and his glorious career. 
His young and lovely wife, to whom he was devotedly 
attached ; his children, one of whom he had never seen ; 
his ambition for military glory, and his love of liberty, 
which were now the idols that divided his heart ; his 
hope of seeing America free and independent, and of 
doing something himself to secure so glorious a consum- 
mation ; his ardent love for his native land, and his firm 
belief that a better day was about to dawn upon her : 
these were the objects which occupied his mind and agi- 
tated his heart while contemplating the near approach 
of death, and the premature cutting off of a career so 
brilliantly begun. " In spite of my one-and-twenty years," 
said he, in speaking, some years after, of his feelings at 
this time, " I would willingly have exchanged my future 
chance of life, for the certainty of living but three months, 
on condition of again seeing my friends, and witnessing 
the happy termination of the American war." 

By the aid of a good constitution, and most faith- 
ful, tender care, the fever was finally subdued. The 
prospect of his recovery was hailed with universal joy, 
and many an offering of heartfelt gratitude to God. As 



RETURN TO PRANCE. 87 

soon as he was able to travel, lie set ofF for Boston, ac- 
companied by his physician, who had strict charges from 
the commander-in-chief to be in constant attendance, and 
not to leave him till he was actually embarked in his 
voyage. As there were at that time but few American 
sailors who were accustomed to naval sei-vice, it was 
found extremely difficult to complete the crew of the 
Alliance. The Massachusetts council proposed to resort 
to the press, a measure of compulsion well known to the 
people of England, but happily repugnant to every prin- 
ciple and sentiment of American growth. To this Gen- 
eral Lafayette would not consent. It was therefore re- 
solved to supply the deficiency by shipping a number 
of English deserters, then in port, who were not unwil- 
ling to return to Europe, and to open the way for vol- 
unteers from among the prisoners. With a motley com- 
pany thus made up of the most incongruous elements, 
the frigate took her departure for Havre on the 11th of 
January, amid the warmest demonstrations of kindness 
and regard on the part of the hospitable people of Bos- 
ton toward her distinguished passenger. 

The voyage, which, at so advanced a season of the 
year, is seldom very agreeable, was at that period attend- 
ed with all the peculiar hazards of a state of war, and 
with some, as will be seen in the sequel, not necessarily 
incidental to such a state. They encountered a violent 
storai on the banks of Newfoundland, which carried 
away the maintop-mast, the sea breaking over the ship 
with such violence as nearly to fill her with water. Du- 
ring one long dark night she was considered in imminent 
danger. She rode out the gale, however, in safety, and 
was soon again, with favoring winds, careering on her 
way. Escaped from this peril of the sea, they were soon 
exposed to one of a more difficult and appalling charac- 
ter. A convulsion of the natural elements is far less to 



88 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

be dreaded than one of the moral. The ungoverned 
passions of wicked men, when roused to deeds of mutiny, 
treason, and death, are more fonnidable than tempest, 
volcano, or earthquake. 

The proclamations of the British ministry had not only 
encouraged desertion and treason in the ranks of the 
American army, but had stimulated mutiny and massacre 
on board American ships, by promising to pay to their 
crews the full value of every rebel vessel which they 
should bring into an English port. Unhappily, the crew 
of the Alliance was composed of the very materials to be 
operated upon by such a temptation. The poverty of 
the British prisoners was a sufficient inducement on their 
part to listen to the overtures of the deserters, who had 
the additional incentive of a good opportunity, not only 
to fill their pockets with gold, but to secure the pardon 
of the king, and the safety of their forfeited lives. 
Whether any of them shipped with this object definitely 
in view, was never ascertained. But the plot was soon 
formed, and had nearly ripened into action before it was 
discovered. 

The day was fixed for the perpetration of the bloody 
deed. The cry of " Sail ho !" was to be raised by the 
men stationed in the top. This would, of course, bring 
the officers all on deck, and probably the passengers with 
them. As they came up, they were instantly to be swept 
down by the guns of the conspirators, who, by the aid 
of the gunner's mate, had provided themselves for the 
crisis. Four in the afternoon was the hour assigned for 
the signal, and everything promised fair for the scheme 
until three. The men were all in their places, their guns 
loaded, and their other implements of death ready for the 
work, when it was most providentially arrested. A true- 
hearted American seaman, who had resided some years 
in Ireland, and acquired the accent peculiar to that peo- 



RETURN TO FRANCE. 89 

pie, was, from this circumstance, supposed to belong to 
the British ranks. Under this impression, the mutineers 
had disclosed their plot to him, offering him the command 
of the frigate if he would join them. With admirable 
self-possession and prudence, he concealed his hoiTor, 
and pretended to accejjt the proposal. He entered into 
their plans, informed himself of their numbers, names, 
and means of operation, and then watched for a favora- 
ble opportunity to defeat their hoiTid purpose. It was 
only one hour before the work was to have been finished, 
that such an opportunity oft'ered, without exciting suspi- 
cions which would have been fatal to him, and destructive 
to his hopes of saving the ship. About three o'clock, 
he succeeded in obtaining an interview with the com- 
mander and with General Lafayette, unnoticed by any 
of the conspirators. Being informed of the danger which 
menaced them, they summoned the officers, with the 
other passengers, rushed sword in hand upon deck, and 
calling upon the uncorrupted American and French 
sailors to come to the rescue, seized the ringleaders and 
put them instantly in irons. Thirty-one of the culprits 
were thus secured and brought to trial. Many more 
were implicated, but, having disarmed them, and taken 
away their leaders, it was deemed the best policy to treat 
them with seeming confidence, and let them go. 

Eight days after the detection of this plot, the Alliance 
entered the port of Brest. The mutineers were treated 
with singular clemency, being only detained as British 
prisoners, and exchanged as such, as soon as an oppor- 
tunity occun-ed, instead of being brought to instant ex- 
ecution at the yard-arm. 
8* 



90 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER VII. 
Lafayette's influence and usefulness in France — 

HIS SECOND voyage TO AMERICA. 

"When tlie ardent young soldier, the high-bom and 
wealthy marquis de Lafayette, left his native land in the 
spring of 1777, to enlist as a volunteer in the rebel army 
of the United States, he was obliged to steal away like a 
fugitive, without seeking counsel or a blessing from his 
friends, or even taking leave of his young and lovely 
wife, disguised as a servant, pursued by the police, and 
subject to censures, penalties, imprisonment, and confis- 
cation. When, in the early part of 1779, he returned to 
France, he entered her port openly and boldly, clothed 
with the highest office in the revolutionary army, and 
covered with the honors and praises of the grateful 
people whom he was aiding to secure their birthright 
of freedom, and was welcomed home with enthusiasm 
and triumph by the land of his birth. True, he was 
yet under the frown of royalty. Louis XVI. had not 
yet pardoned the presumption of his first overt act of 
disobedience. But the position of Louis was entirely 
changed. He had thrown down the gauntlet to Eng- 
land, formed an alliance with her rebel colonies, and com- 
missioned his navy to aid them in making good their 
Declaration of Independence. In this change of policy, 
the nation sympathized, and everywhere the way was 



INFLUENCE AND USEFULNESS IN FRANCE. 91 

prepared to receive the young cavalier with open arms 
as the champion of liberty and the pride of France. 

Though placed under arrest, his prison was not the 
Bastile, as, under different circumstances, it might have 
been, but the hotel de Noialles, the magnificent city -res- 
idence of his wife's relations, where, in the princely lei- 
sure of a week's nominal confinement, he revelled in the 
endeannents of home, and received the congratulatory 
visits of admiring friends. After this brief duresse, he 
was received at court, with every mark of respect and 
admiration, the courtiers vying with each other which 
should do most honor to his heroic gallantry. The king 
and queen did not spare the most flattering compliments 
upon his early laurels, though neither of them approved, 
at heart, of the principles of the cause he had espoused. 
The current of popular opinion, too strong to be safely 
resisted, aided by the natural desire to cripple the power 
of England, had made Louis XVI. the ally of the Amer- 
ican states, while, at the same time, he seriously depre- 
cated the prevalence of opinions so adverse to the sta- 
bility of monarchical institutions. The beautiful and 
accomplished Marie A.ntoinette, who cordially sympa- 
thized in all the legitimist scruples of her royal husband, 
had others, of a more conscientious character, respecting 
the course he was pursuing toward his rival on the other 
side of the channel. She prefeiTed open war to strata- 
gem, and looked upon the indirect effort to weaken the 
power of Great Britain, by sustaining her rebellious col- 
onies in the establishment of a separate and republican 
government, as equally ungenerous toward her, and un- 
advisable with reference to their own position and claims, 
as hereditary occupants of a throne. With these views, 
the result of education and habit, she always and earnestly 
opposed the alliance. Could she have foreseen the ter- 
7'ible fate which the progress of liberal opinions was pre- 



92 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

paring for herself, her royal husband and children, this 
opposition would doubtless have been more earnest, bet- 
ter directed, and therefore, perhaps, more successful. 

As queen of France, however, she was proud of all 
that was noble and heroic in French chivalry. Though 
opposed to the principles of the American revolution, she 
could not but enjoy the spectacle of a proud, enthusiastic 
people engaged in rendering homage to the prudence, 
courage, and singular capacity, of the young French no- 
bleman, whose admirable conduct had won all hearts at 
home, as it had secured the highest esteem and confidence 
abroad. Sympathizing in this generous enthusiasm of 
her subjects, which regarded the early glory of the youth- 
ful marquis as part of the military renown of France, 
she honored him with special marks of royal favor. He 
was often at court " the observed of all observers." The 
following lines, copied from an old play, by her own 
hand, as illustrative of the early maturity of his powers 
and his fame, show that the queen was no flatterer on 
this occasion, but that she justly appreciated, and truly 
admired, the character of Lafayette: — 

" "Why talk of youth, 
When all the ripe experience of the old 
Dwells with him ? In his schemes profound and cool, 
He acts with wise precaution, and resei'ves 
For times of action his impetuous fire. 
To guard the camp, to scale the leaguered wall. 
Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toils 
That suit the impetuous bearing of his youth ; 
Yet, like the gray -haired veteran, he can shun 
The field of peril. Still before my eyes 
I place his bright example, for I love 
His lofty courage, and his prudent thought : 
Gifted like him, a warrior has no age." 

The recital of this passage at the theatre called forth 
the most enthusiastic applauses, and tended, more than 
ever, to draw all eyes toward the youthful hero, to whose 



INFLUENCE AND USEFULNESS IN FRANCE. 93 

singular merit it was conceded, by universal acclaim, to 
offer an appropriate homage.* 

The enthusiasm of the queen was such, at the time, 
that she proposed to send to Washington a magnifi- 
cent royal present, as a token of her personal admira- 
tion. In consulting Lafayette with respect to the form 
of presentation, she cited the terms employed on similar 
occasions, in addressing the king of Sweden and other 
monarchs. Lafayette objected to them as unsuitable in 
this case, saying, with a tone of raillery which her maj- 
esty had too much good sense to resent, " They, mad- 
ame, were only kings. Washington is the general of a 
free nation." 

Lafayette's position was now more conspicuous and im- 
portant than it had ever been. He had become the main 
connecting;- link between the United States and France. 
He enjoyed the affection and confidence of the two nations. 
With that steady and prudent zeal which formed so con- 
spicuous a trait in his well-balanced character, he imme- 
diately set about employing all the facilities afforded by 
his favor at court, and his general popularity, in serving 
the cause of America. In this he had many serious 
obstacles to encounter. The ministry was divided into 
parties, by several of which, under various pretexts, 
means were employed to neutralize the popular zeal, or, 
at least, to prevent it from furnishing any effective suc- 
cor. The queen's party demanded the previous fulfil- 
ment of the treaty of Vienna, by which forty thousand 
soldiers were pledged to carry on the war of the succes- 
sion in Austria. The honest old economist, Necker, 
who, in unravelling the formidable mysteries of the na- 
tional finances, had sounded the seemingly-unfathomable 
depths of the national debt, strenuously opposed any 
measures which could increase the public burdens, al- 

* Madame Campan. 



9i LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

ready insupportable. The count de Maurepas, who had 
favored the American movement hitherto, began to sym- 
pathize with Neckar, and to contemplate a more speedy 
termination of the war, by a maritime descent upon 
England. 

This latter proposal accorded well with the bold, dar- 
ing, chivalrous zeal of Lafayette. Entering into it with 
characteristic energy, he was soon far in advance of its 
originators. Dr. Franklin had purchased the Bonne 
Homme Richard, a ship of fifty guns, the command of 
which was given to the celebrated Paul Jones. An- 
other frigate was to be added, on French account, and a 
sudden descent made upon the western shores of Eng- 
land, with a view to levying heavy contributions upon 
Liverpool, Bristol, and other large commercial towns, 
for the benefit of the American finances. These vessels 
were to have sailed under American colors, commanded 
by Captain Jones, Lafayette having command of the 
land-forces accompanying the expedition. The vessels 
were nearly equipped, the troops, to the number of fif- 
teen hundred, were assembled, ready for embarkation, 
and the whole scheme was about to be put into execu- 
tion, when it was suddenly laid aside by the French 
government, to make way for another, which was to be 
formed on a more imposing scale. A combined attack 
on the English coast was to be made by the forces of 
France and Spain, which looked not merely to levying 
temporary contributions upon a few British merchants, 
but to permanently humbling the pride of British power. 

In this expedition, Lafayette, though not the prin- 
cipal, as before, was to hold an important command, 
under the marshal de Vaux. But it was destined to an 
entire failure. Through the tardiness of Spain, in fur- 
nishing her stipulated quota of ships and men, the enter- 
prise was delayed until England was apprized of its 



INFLUENCE AND USEFULNESS IN FRANCE. 95 

objects, and prepared herself to resist it. France was 
ready, on her part ; her ships and men, with those of the 
American commander, having rendezvoused at Havre. 
It was while waiting here, on this occasion, that Lafay- 
ette received fi'om Dr. Franklin, through the hands of 
his grandson, a magnificent sword, which the Congress 
of the United States had voted him, on the eve of his 
departure from America. 

This sword was a chef d/ CRuvre of American ingenuity 
and French art. The handle and mounting;-s were of 
massive gold, beautifully and elaborately carved. On 
the knob were two medallions ; one exhibiting a shield, 
with the Lafayette arms and a marquis's coronet, sur- 
mounted by a streamer, inscribed with his favorite motto, 
"Cur Non ;" the other, a continent, illumined by the 
moon's crescent, representing the rising glory of Amer- 
ica. In the centre of the shaft were two opposite, ob 
long, oval, medallions, representing, on one side, the 
British lion prostrate under the foot of Lafayette, and, 
on the other, America presenting a laurel-branch to her 
youthful defender. Piles of arms and laurel-crowns 
made up the remaining ornaments of the shaft. On the 
guard were four medallions, two on the convex and two 
on the concave face, representing, in has relief, the bat- 
tles of Gloucester and Monmouth, and the retreats of 
Barren hill and Rhode Island. The sides of the guard 
were also appropriately decorated ; the fi'ont, or exposed 
side, bearing this inscription : " From the American 
Congress to the marquis de Lafayette, 1779." The mount- 
ing of the scabbard was of gold, which was carved with 
symbolic devices. On one side, a large oval medallion 
represented Fame on the wing, crossing the ocean in 
advance of the frigate which conveyed Lafayette back to 
France. In one hand she held the crown awarded by 
America to Lafayette, and, in the other, the trumpet 



96 



LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



with which she proclaimed to Europe his heroic exploits. 
On the other side was a shield, encircled Math laurel, in- 
tended to receive the cipher and device of Lafayette, as 
the founder of a new name. 

On forwarding this sword to Lafayette, Franklin ad- 
dressed to him the following letter : — 

" Passy, August 24, 1779. 

"Sir: The Congi-ess, sensible of your merit toward 
the United States, but unable adequately to reward it, 
determined to present you with a sword, as a small mark 
of their grateful acknowledgments. They directed it to 
be ornamented with suitable devices. Some of the prin- 
cipal actions of the war, in which you distinguished 
yourself by your bravery and conduct, are, therefore, 
represented upon it. These, with a few emblematic 
figures, all admirably well executed, make its principal 
value. By help of the exquisite artists France affords, 
I find it easy to express everything but the sense we 
have of your worth, and our obligations to you. I there- 
fore only add, that, with the most perfect esteem, I have 
the honor to be, etc., B. Franklin." 

During the reign of teri'or, this sword was buried, for 
safe-keeping, in the garden at Chavagniac. On the return 
of the family from exile, the blade was found to be entire- 
ly corroded with rust. The handle and mountings were 
afterward adjusted to the blade of another trophy, present- 
ed by the National Guard, in October, 1791, and manu- 
factured from the bolts and bars of the Bastile. 

The correspondence of General Lafayette, at this pe- 
riod, indicates an intensity of devotion to American in- 
terests, and a fertihty of resource, which we are hardly 
prepared, even by his previous efforts and sacrifices, to 
expect. Sanguine in his hopes, and impatient of any 
delay in a matter so near his heart, he lost no op- 
portunity to urge upon ministers the despatch necessary 



INFLUENCE AND USEFULNESS IN FRANCE. 97 

to secure success, and the liberality requisite to insure 
despatch. His desire and hope was, that France would 
enter largely into the contest, and make ample provision 
for bringing it to a speedy issue. This, however, was ask- 
ing too much from the economical counsellors of the king. 
At first, he did not solicit it in the name of the United 
States, his instructions from Congress having forbidden 
such a course, in consequence of the general dissatisfac- 
tion and want of confidence occasioned by the result of 
the expedition to Rhode Island. But when he saw the 
backwardness of the government and its agents, and be- 
gan to fear that they would suffer the whole campaign 
to go by without affording any efficient aid to their new 
allies, he resolved to assume a new and mighty respon- 
sibility, going not only beyond, but against his instruc- 
tions. He made direct application to his government, 
in behalf and in the name of the American Congress, 
for a large body of auxiliary troops, well appointed and 
officered, to be placed under the command of General 
"Washington. The result justified the course he had 
taken. The direct, formal, official application was im- 
mediately answered. He was promised a body of six 
thousand men, who should be fully armed and equipped, 
and placed at the disposal of the American commander. 
This number was afterward reduced to four thousand. 

That Lafayette lost none of the Frenchman, in identi- 
fying himself so heartily with the cause of America, was 
strikingly manifest in the designs proposed by him against 
England, some of which aimed directly at the dismem- 
berment of that empire, as an end, as well as a means 
of accomplishing his first object, the independence of 
America. He had already taken part in two enterprises 
which proposed an offensive descent upon the coast of 
Great Britain. He now proposed another, of a more 
formidable and permanent character. This was no other 
9 



98 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

than the invasion and conquest of Ireland, not with a 
view to attach it to the crown of France, but to wi'ench 
it from that of England, and establish for it an indepen- 
dent government. " The scheme of my heart," said he 
in his letter to Washington, " would be to make her as 
free and independent as America. I have formed some 
private relations there. God grant they may succeed, 
and the era of freedom at length aiTive for the happiness 
of mankind ! I shall know more about Ireland in a few 
weeks, and then I will immediately communicate with 
your excellency." Could this " scheme of Lafayette's 
warm heart" have been realized, how different would be 
the story of the " Emerald Isle" from that which now 
pains the heart of every reader ! The voice of her chil- 
dren would not now be coming to our ears, over the 
ocean-wave, in the wails, and groans, and dying sighs, 
of a nation perishing with famine, but in the shouts 
and paeans of a people " emancipated, regenerated, dis- 
enthralled." 

Wherever, among the crowned heads of Europe, there 
existed at this time an ancient pique, or a more recent 
cause of hostility against England, it was sure to mani- 
fest itself in some act of sympathy for her rebel colonies. 
Lafayette took advantage of this feeling wherever he 
saw it exhibited, and administered such stimulants as he 
supposed necessary to rouse it into active co-operation. 
With this view, he made application to the Swedish em- 
bassador at Paris to procure the loan to America of sev- 
eral ships-of-the-line, with half their crews, proposing 
that France should guaranty the loan, and complete the 
equipment. Knowing the backwardness of the ministry 
to adopt any suggestion which involved a new draught 
upon the exhausted treasury, he proposed, with a devotion 
and generosity seldom equalled, that the guaranty of the 
government should extend only so far as to cover the 



INFLUENCE AND USEFULNESS IN FRANCE. 99 

excess of ultimate loss over and above the amount of his 
own private fortune; thus pledging to this one effort in 
behalf of the United States the whole of his princely es- 
tates. So confident was he in the entire success of the 
Amencan cause, that he did not esteem the risk in this case 
worthy to be compared with the advantages to be derived 
from such an arrangement. A few ships at her own 
disposal would have been, indeed, a right arm of power 
to America in any stage of her arduous struggle, and 
would doubtless have shortened its duration most ma- 
terially. The scheme failed — whether through the re- 
luctance of France to engage in it, or the refusal of 
Sweden to second the views presented by her minister, 
does not appear. 

It was finally determined, in accordance with Lafay- 
ette's urgent and unremitted persuasions, to send Count 
Rochambeau to America, with four thousand troops. 
Many young officers, from the most distinguished fami- 
lies of France, and especially those about the court, were 
induced to attach themselves to this coi'ps, in order to 
give it additional importance in the eye of the ministry, 
and lead them the more readily to sustain its movements, 
by sending with it a competent naval force. The troops 
were to be disembarked at Rhode Island, which had just 
been evacuated by the British. They were then to be 
placed at the disposal of General Washington, and to 
constitute a division of his army, but under the immediate 
command of their own officers, with whom it was previ- 
ously stipulated, in order to prevent continual jealousies 
and unnecessary discussions, that American officers of 
the same rank and age should always have the priority. 

In addition to these important services, a loan of money 
was obtained in Holland, under the guaranty of France, 
to sustain the treasury of the United States. Fifteen 
thousand suits of olothe8,and as many stand of arms were 

L.ofC. 



100 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

also ordered in the different ports of France, for the ben- 
efit of the American army. Unhappily, this shipment was 
reserved to accompany the last detachment of two thou- 
sand men which had been promised to make up Count 
Rochambeau's force to six thousand. As this detach- 
ment never sailed, the clothing was a long time delayed 
in reaching its destination. 

The spirit of entire devotion to the cause of American 
freedom in which these eminent services were rendered, 
can not be better illustrated than by allowing it to speak 
for itself in a few brief extracts from the letters of this 
period : — 

" To THE President of Congress : The affairs of 
America I shall ever look upon as my first business while 
I am in Europe. Any confidence from the king and 
ministers, any popularity I may have among my own 
countrymen, any means in my' power, shall be, to the 
best of my skill, and till the end of my life, exerted in 
behalf of an interest I have so much at heart. If Con- 
gress believe that my influence may serve them in any 
way, I beg they will direct such orders to me, that I may 
the more certainly and properly employ the knowledge 
I have of this court and country,for securing a success 
in which my affections are so much engaged." 

To General Washington he wi'ote, after detailing some 
of his efforts to procure a loan of money — "Serving 
America, my dear general, is to my heart an inexpres- 
sible happiness." Having spoken of his kind reception 
in France, his favor with the king, and the happiness of 
his family relations, he adds: *' What I wish — what 
would make me the happiest of men — is, to join again 
the American colors, or to put under your orders a di- 
vision of four or five thousand countrymen of mine." 

To the count de Vergennes, minister of foreign affairs, 
having proposed certain measures to aid the American 



SECOND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 101 

cause, and otherwise harass the British in their foreign 
possessions, he says : " I solemnly affinn, upon my honor, 
that if half my fortune were expended in forwarding suc- 
cors of troops to the American army, I should believe 
that in so doing I rendered to ray owti country a service 
much more important than this sacrifice." 

To General Washington, of a later date : " However 
happy I am in France, however well treated by my coun- 
try and king, I am bound to you, to America, and to my 
fellow-soldiers there, with such an affection, that the mo- 
ment when I shall sail for your country will be one of 
the most wished-for and the happiest of my life." 

When about to return to America, a question arose 
between himself and the French ministry, in what ca- 
pacity he should be employed — whether he should com- 
mand the French detachment, under the commission of 
the king, or resume his position as a major-general in 
the continental army. " In regard to myself," said he, 
" I ask for nothing, as, during the course of the war, I 
may hope to acquire rank. I will bind myself, if it be 
desired, to ask for neither rank nor titles ; and, to put 
the ministry quite at their ease, I will even promise to 
refuse, should they be offered me." Some of these pre- 
liminaries it became necessary to settle before assigning 
to so young an officer the same rank in the French detach- 
ment which he held in the American army, as it would 
create confusion and dissatisfaction among his seniors on 
his return. This will explain his last remark, that " he 
would bind himself to refuse rank, if it should be offered to 
him." He also, in the same spirit of disinterested devo- 
tion, says in another place, that he should wish such a 
commission to be given him as ** would not prevent his 
seniors from resuming afterward their rank." 

It was finally concluded that he should return to the 
United States as an American officer, having no definite 
9* 



102 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

connection with the French coi'ps. At his audience of 
leave, he wore his American uniform, the first perhaps, 
that had been seen among the more showy equipages of 
the royal saloons. He sailed from the island of Aix, in 
the French frigate Hermione, on the 19th of March, 1780, 
and arrived at Boston on the 28th of April following. He 
had instructions from the count de Vergennes to prepare 
for the arrival of a French fleet, which was soon to set 
sail for America. To prevent the possibility of a mis- 
take, or any serious delay in communicating with head- 
quarters, he was directed to place an intelligent French 
officer at Cape Henry, and another at Newport, Rhode 
Island, to announce the arrival of the fleet, and furnish 
its commander such information as might be requisite to 
direct his first movements. This fleet arrived at New- 
port on the 10th of July. It consisted of seven ships-of- 
the-line, under the command of Admiral le chevalier de 
Ternay ; and, though less in number than was expected, 
and inferior in force to the British fleet, it rendered es- 
sential service in the future operations of the war. Four 
thousand men, under Count Rochambeau, accompanied 
the fleet. 

The reception of General Lafayette at Boston was 
marked with an enthusiasm in the highest degree flatter- 
ing^ to that gallant young officer, and worthy of the pa- 
triotic pride of " the cradle of liberty." He was met 
with the acclamations of the multitude on the wharf, and 
borne in a triumphal civic procession to the residence of 
Goveraor Hancock, on Beacon hill, where he received 
the congratulations of the citizens. Eager to see his be- 
loved Washington, and find himself once more in the 
field, he hastened to headquarters, at Morristown, where 
he was received, not only by the commander-in-chief, 
but by the whole army, with every demonstration of 
gratitude, affection, and respect. His ovni unbounded 



SECOND VOYAGE TO AMEIIICA. 103 

popularity, not less than the tidings he brought of ex- 
pected succors, in both men and ships, from France, in- 
sured him a cordial welcome. Washington, in the ful- 
ness of his heart, writing to the French minister, the 
chevalier de la Luzerne, says : " You will participate in 
the joy I feel at the arrival of the marquis de Lafayette. 
No event could have given me a greater pleasure on a 
personal account, and motives of public utility conspire 
to make it agreeable." To the president of Congress he 
wrote, " I am persuaded Congress will participate in the 
joy I feel at the return of a gentleman who has so sig- 
nally distinguished himself in the service of this country, 
who has given so many and so decisive proofs of his at- 
tachment to its interests, and who ought to be dear to it 
from every motive. The warm friendship I have for him 
conspires with considerations of public utility to afford 
me a double satisfaction in his return. During the time 
he has been in France, he has uniformly manifested the 
same zeal in our affairs which animated his conduct 
while he was among us ; and he has been on all occa- 
sions an essential friend to America. He merits, and I 
doubt not Congress will give him, every mark of consid- 
eration in their power." 

Having passed four days in the camp, and communi- 
cated all his hopes and plans to the commander-in-chief, 
Lafayette proceeded to Philadelphia, to confer with Con- 
gress, and concert measures with the French minister, 
to render the French subsidies useful in the highest de- 
gi'ee to the American cause. He was everywhere re- 
ceived with open arms, and gi'eeted by Congi-ess with 
special marks of grateful distinction. A resolution of 
thanks was passed on the 16th of May, declaring that 
" they considered his return as a fresh proof of the dis- 
interested zeal and persevering attachment which have 
justly recommended him to the public confidence and 

it 



104 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

applause, and that they received with pleasure a tender 
of the further services of so gallant and meritorious an 
officer." 

General Lafayette had now the immediate command 
of a selected corps of light-infantry, consisting of about 
two thousand men, and constituting the vanguard of the 
army. That celebrated partisan. Colonel Henry Lee, 
with his more than Roman legion, and Brigadier-General 
Morgan, with his invincible riflemen, were attached to 
this corps. "While in France, the young general had 
purchased a large quantity of military ornaments for the 
soldiers, swords for the officers, and banners for the bat- 
talions. One of the banners had for a device a cannon, 
with this motto — " TJltima ratio,^^ the last resort. An- 
other had a crown of laurel united to a civic crown, with 
this motto — '■'■'No other T This corps was distinguished 
through the remainder of the war by the red-and-black 
plumes which their commander had purchased in France, 
and by being better and more uniformly clothed than any 
other — a distinction which was also due to the sarne dis- 
interested munificence. 

On the 4th of July, 1780, Lafayette addressed a letter 
to General Washington, expressing in the strongest terms 
his desire that the whole army should be suitably clothed, 
and his own plan for effecting it. If necessary to secure 
that object, he proposed to go himself to France, and 
bring back ten thousand complete suits. 

The arrival of the count Rochambeau gave new life to 
the army and the people of America. The states roused 
themselves to new exertions and sacrifices. The people 
everywhere came forward to their support. The army 
was rapidly increased by large accessions of militia. As- 
sociations of wealthy merchants were formed to aid the 
finances of the country. The banks came forward to 
their aid. The ladies, always ready in a good cause, uni- 



SECOND VOYAGE TO AMERICA. 105 

ted their efforts with those of their husbands, fathers, and 
brothers, to swell the contributions to the funds of the 
army. Their first movement to that effect was nobly and 
delicately seconded by Lafayette, who entered upon the 
Philadelphia list the name of his wife for the sum of one 
hundred guineas. 

While all America was grateful for the subsidies, La- 
fayette alone was disappointed. They did not realize his 
just expectations. The ministry had but half fulfilled its 
promises. The ships, the men, the clothing, and the 
munitions of war, for the use of the army, all fell short 
of the arrangements and stipulations made with them, 
before he left France. It is true, another detachment, and 
a further shipment of arms and clothing, were promised ; 
and they were wanted instantly, but they never anived. 

Fortunately, Lafayette had communicated to veiy few 
persons the secret of the expected succors ; so that the 
English were not prepared, by corresponding reinforce- 
ments, to neutralize their influence, nor the Americans, 
by the disappointment of their hopes, to undei'value 
the aid afforded. 

Immediately on the arrival of the French fleet, La- 
fayette was despatched to Newport to concert measures 
for instant action, on a plan which had long been in 
contemplation by Washington. It embraced the re- 
covery of Long island, and an attack on the British 
headquarters at New York. On his way he called on 
Governor Trumbull and other eminent patriots of Con- 
necticut, to make arrangements for calling out some ad- 
ditional companies of militia, to co-operate with the 
regular troops. Reaching Newport on the 25th of July, 
he found the French forces already disembarked, en- 
camped on the island, and in instant expectation of an 
attack from the enemy. Four British ships had ap- 
peared in the bay on the 19th, followed, two days after, 



106 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

by nine or ten more. Sir Henry Clinton had concerted 
with Admiral Arbuthnot to attempt, by a sudden and 
decisive blow, to surprise and cut off the French, before 
they had time to entrench themselves, or to form an effec- 
tive junction with any portion of the American army. 
But, being delayed in his movements, he found them well 
fortified, and learned, at the same time, that Washing- 
ton was making a rapid movement toward New York. 
He consequently abandoned the enterprise in haste, and 
returned to defend his quarters. 

Lafayette, who had not seriously anticipated an assault 
from the British, now urged the immediate prosecution 
of the plans of Washington. He had full authority to 
conclude all the arrangements in the name of the com- 
mander-in-chief. There were difficulties, however, which 
he could not surmount. Although the capture of New 
York had been one of the objects of the French ministry, 
they had contrived by their instructions to Count Ro- 
chambeau to render it quite impracticable. They at- 
tached great importance to Rhode Island as a station, 
and directed that it should be held as a centre of opera- 
tions. The count was therefore reluctant to withdraw 
his whole force from it ; and with anything less than the 
whole, he would not think of attempting to take New 
York. 

The naval force of Admiral Ternay, it was also urged, 
was inferior to those of Arbuthnot and Graves combined. 
His vessels, though heavier in metal, numbered scarcely 
more than one to three of the adverse fleet. It was also 
doubted whether there was depth of water on the bar 
sufficient to allow his largest vessels to enter the harbor 
of New York. This, it will be recollected, had deterred 
Count d'Estaing from prosecuting a similar enterprise, 
on his first arrival in the American waters. 

All these points were fully and ably discussed on both 



SECOND VOYAGE TCf AMERICA. 107 

sides, and not without some feeling, as the con'espon- 
dence shows, on the part of Lafayette. He entered with 
all the enthusiasm of his nature into the plans and wishes 
of "Washington. He indulged at the same time a most 
laudable, patriotic pride, in reflecting that, in striking so 
important and decisive a blow as that which was now 
contemplated — a blow on which the great question of 
American independence might turn — the right arm of 
America would be the arm of France, stretched out by 
his persuasions, and bared for the conflict by his own 
example, influence, and eflbrts. 

The French were easrer for action. The enthusiasm 

o 

of the soldiers was at its highest pitch. They could 
scai'cely tolerate the idea of waiting in fruitless inaction 
for the arrival of the second division of the fleet and 
aiTiiy, and Count Rochambeau's private feelings were in 
full sympathy with theirs. Admiral Ternay, however, 
who was completely blockaded at Newport, did not think 
it right, in any sense, to risk a general engagement, till 
the other ships should come. In expectation of their 
speedy arrival, and in the hope of hastening the issue, 
by a more complete understanding of the American po- 
sitions and movements, they proposed a conference with 
General Washington, whom they regarded as their su- 
perior oflicer, and whose orders they were perfectly ready 
to obey. This proposal was assented to, but was not 
carried into effect until the latter part of September. 
Hartford, in Connecticut, was fixed upon as the place 
of meeting, being about equidistant from Washington's 
headquarters and the French station at Newport. 



108 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER VIII. 
Arnold's treason — lafayette in Virginia. 

The campaign of 1780 was signalized, chiefly, by the 
defeat of G-eneral Grates in the southern department, and 
the treason of Arnold at West Point, which threw an 
inauspicious shade over the prospects of the American 
struggle. The latter event came to its crisis while 
Washington was at Hartford, whither he 'had gone, in 
company with Lafayette and Knox, to confer with Ad- 
miral Ternay and Count Rochambeau. Returning from 
this conference, he took the upper road to Fishkill, in- 
tending to visit West Point, for the double pui'pose of 
inspecting, and showing the fortifications to Lafayette, 
they having been constructed during his absence in 
France. They were detained at Fishkill several hours, 
by the chevalier de la Luzerne, the French minister, 
who was on his way to the headquarters of Count Ro- 
chambeau. This was on the 24th of September. On 
the morning of the 25th, the party was early on its way 
toward the headquarters of General Arnold, commonly 
known as " Robinson's house," on the east side of the 
river, several miles below West Point. The distance 
from Fishkill was eighteen miles. A message had been 
sent forward, that the party might be expected there to 
breakfast. 

Arriving opposite West Point, General Washington 
turned suddenly into a naiTow road leading to the river- 



Arnold's treason, 109 

bank. Lafayette, on seeing it, called out, " General, you 
are going in a wrong direction. Mrs. Arnold will be 
waiting breakfast for us, and that road will take us out 
of our way." Washington replied, with his usual good- 
natured smile, " Ah ! I know you young men are all in 
love with Mrs. Arnold, and the hope of breakfasting in 
her company gives spurs to your haste. You can ride 
on, and tell her not to wait for me, as I must first exam- 
ine the redoubts on this side ; but I will join you soon." 
Refusing to avail themselves of this permission, the offi- 
cers accompanied their commander to the river, having 
first sent forward Colonels Hamilton and M'Henry to 
explain the cause of their delay. 

On the arrival of the aids, Arnold sat down with them 
to breakfast. While seated at table, a messenger came 
in with a letter, which he opened and read in the pres- 
ence of the company. It informed him of the capture 
of Andre, the consequent failure of his nefarious plot, 
and his own'^^pi^i^^i^t danger. Not a moment was to 
be lost. With singular self-command, he concealed his 
emotions, which could only have been those of the most 
intense chagrin, disappointment, and apprehension, and 
immediately left the room ; leaving word for General 
Washington that urgent business had called him sud- 
denly to West Point, and that he would await his amval 
at that place. 

He had scarcely left the house, when Washington and 
his party came up. Partaking of a hasty breakfast, they 
followed his steps, as they supposed, to West Point, 
while in reality he was rapidly making his way down 
the river to the Vulture — a British fi'igate, lying be- 
low, through means of which he had been can-ying on 
his treasonable coiTespondence with Sir Henry Clin- 
ton. Though surprised to leam from the commandant, 
not only that Araold was not at West Point, but that 
10 



110 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

he had neither seen nor heard from him in two days, no 
suspicions appear to have been awakened in any mmd, 
that all was not perfectly right at that important post. 
Having occupied an hour or two in a careful inspection 
of every part of the garrison, they returned to the other 
side of the river. As they approached Arnold's quar- 
ters, they were met by Colonel Hamilton, who had just 
received the fatal papers which disclosed the whole ex- 
tent of the treason, and explained the mystery of Araold's 
singular absence. 

Communicating the contents of these papers only to 
Lafayette and Knox, with the melancholy inquiry, 
« Whom can we trust now 1" Washington immediately 
despatched Hamilton to Verplanck's Point, to intercept, 
if possible, the retreat of the fugitive. But it was much 
too late. He had six hours the start of his pursuers, 
and was already safe under the protection of the British 
flag ; which, while it shielded him from the vengeance 
of those whom he would have betrayed JiP its power, 
blushed for the villany it was compelled to cover, at the 
expense of the ignominious death of one of the worthiest 
and most accomplished officers of the royal army. . 

This was the most trying incident of the Revolution. 
In all the difficulties he had yet encountered, the Amer- 
ican commander had been sustained by an unshaken 
confidence in the patriotism and fidelity of his officers. 
Arnold had received his full share of that confidence. 
His courage and skill as a general, of which he had 
given the most honorable proofs, would as soon have 
been suspected, as the sincerity of his devotion to a 
cause in which he had suffered so much, and to which he 
had rendered such signal services. Who, then, could be 
reHed upon 1 The very gi'ound on which they stood 
seemed to tremble under them, as with an earthquake. 
But Washington was firm . and composed. He did not 



Arnold's treason. Ill 

suffer himself to doubt or suspect others, in consequence 
of this defection. Lafayette was his constant companion ; 
a man who, being all frankness himself, scorned suspi- 
cion scarcely less than treason. To be the bosom-friend 
of Washington, at such a juncture, his confidant, his 
counsellor, was indeed an enviable privilege. This ele- 
vated position was Lafayette's, at the age of twenty-two. 

The youthful general, weary of inactivity, and finding 
no prospect of active service in the field, projected a 
descent upon Staten island, to cut off a detachment of 
the British army stationed there, and secure the military 
stores. It was found impracticable, however, on account 
of the want of boats sufficient to transport the troops to 
the island. A still more extensive entei-prise was then 
projected, viz. : an attack upon the British posts on the 
upper end of New York island. The zeal of the gen- 
eral, and his eagerness to be personally employed, were 
strongly and ably set forth in a letter to Washington, 
dated " Light Camp, October 30, 1780." His plan was 
well devised, and fortified by cogent arguments for its 
immediate execution, as well as by his own judicious 
arrangement of the details, and his sagacious anticipation 
of the difficulties that encompassed it. He claimed the 
post of danger ; he was himself to lead the advance. 
The French legions were to co-operate in the enterprise. 
And it was no small part of Lafayette's ambition, in ar- 
ranging the plan, to show the foreign allies what Amer- 
ican soldiers and irregular militia could do, when put to 
the test ; but his ambition was not gratified at this time, 
his wishes being overruled by the superior caution of 
the commander-in-chief. 

General Gates having been recalled from the com- 
mand of the southern department. General Greene was 
commissioned to take his place. Believing that the 
principal theatre of action, during the approaching cam- 



112 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

paign, would be found in that quarter, and hoping for 
some active service there even in the v^^inter, numerous 
applications were made by the gallant officers of the 
army, for appointments under GJ-eneral Greene. Among 
the number of these applicants was Lafayette. His let- 
ter to Grreene, declaring his intention to solicit a com- 
mand under him, is replete with those admirable senti- 
ments which always actuated him, displaying a spirit in 
which a lofty personal ambition was always subservient 
to a loftier determination to consecrate all his powers to 
the general good. " You will have great difficulties to 
struggle with. Defeats are expected. But I am heart- 
ily willing to have my fate united to yours, and to share 
in anything, good or bad, that may happen to the troops 
under your command. By my temper and principles, I 
am bound to accept anything, and cheerfully to act upon 
any scale that a superior officer thinks fit for me ; but 
you are not mistaken in believing that the command of 
a flying camp, composed of the horse and light-infantry 
of your army, will better please me than the honorable 
but less active command of a wing. In case the dispo- 
sitions of the enemy make you wish that I should repair 
to any particular place, I will, on the least hint from you, 
ask leave from the general to fly there with the greatest 
despatch." 

Having obtained permission to act in accordance with 
these promises, he had proceeded as far as Philadelphia, 
when his further progress was delayed by the desire of 
Congi'ess, that he would assist in the negotiations then 
going on with the chevalier de la Luzerne, the French 
minister. These negotiations had reference to the em- 
ployment of the French fleet, which v^as then on the 
West-India station, where it had gained some advantages 
over the British. It was under the command of the 
count de Grasse, an able and experienced commander, 



Arnold's treason. 113 

and one full of zeal for the American cause. It was now 
proposed to invite his co-operation in an attack upon the 
British army at the south, as well as to cut off its com- 
munication with New York. Lafayette entered warmly 
into the plan, and used all his influence to forward it. 
When all the preliminaries were arranged, and he was 
at liberty to pursue his course, he turned his face once 
more toward Charleston, to join the army under Gen- 
eral Greene. 

At this moment, it was ascertained that Arnold, having 
received a part of " the wages of iniquity," in a commis- 
sion as brigadier-general in the British army, was at the 
head of a detachment sent into Virginia, to levy contribu- 
tions and plunder the defenceless inhabitants. He was 
acting the part of a savage bandit, rather than that of a 
soldier, carrying fire and sword wherever he went, and 
ravaging the property of Americans, more to gratify pri- 
vate revenge, than to derive to himself or his troops any 
substantial benefit. He landed at Westover, on the James 
river, in January, 1781, and proceeded, with rapid strides, 
to Richmond, where he destroyed an immense amount of 
public and private property. Baron Steuben, who was 
in the vicinity with a considerable force, watched his 
movements, and followed him closely in his retreat, till 
he arrived at Portsmouth. Steuben, who could not dis- 
lodge the traitor from this post, was able to confine him 
there, while he sent for reinforcements, in the hope of 
cutting him off, or getting possession of his person. 

On the receipt of this intelligence, Lafayette was im- 
mediately directed to proceed to Virginia, at the head 
of twelve hundred light-infantry, selected from the lines 
of New England and New Jersey. The headquarters 
of the army were then in the highlands of New York. 
Making a feint, by way of diversion, toward Staten island, 
he moved off', by forced and rapid marches, to the head 
10* 



114 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

of Elk, the northernmost point of the Chesapeake, where 
he arrived on the 3d of March, being three or four days 
earlier than had been anticipated. Here he embarked, 
with his men, in a little squadron of small boats, and 
dropped silently down to Annapolis, a distance of about 
sixty miles. Leaving his troops at this place, to await 
the aiTival of promised reinforcements from the French 
fleet, he set out in a canoe, with a few officers, to join 
Baron Steuben, and to summon to his aid a portion of 
the Virginia militia, and thus hold himself in instant 
readiness for the arrival of the French troops. Safely 
eluding the vigilance of the English frigates then sta- 
tioned in the bay, he proceeded to Williamsburg, on the 
York river, a distance of more than one hundred miles. 
Here he was joined by several companies of volunteer 
militia, hastily brought together, from their farms and 
workshops, to meet the sudden emergency. The utmost 
eagerness and spirit were manifested, which no service 
could have raised to a greater height of enthusiasm, than 
that which promised to secure the person of the traitor 
Arnold. 

Arnold's position at Portsmouth not having been fully 
reconnoitred, Lafayette proceeded in person to Suffolk. 
General Muhlenberg, who was in command at this place, 
was advised to advance his camp somewhat nearer to 
the enemy's lines ; which being done, he proceeded, 
with Lafayette and a small body of troops, to take a 
more particular view of the British defences. This 
brought on a trifling skirmish, but resulted in nothing 
important to either party. The next day, the 20th of 
March, advices were received from Hampton that a fleet 
had come to anchor within the capes. Supposing this 
to be the expected reinforcement, under Admiral Des- 
touches, the Americans were greatly elated with the 
assured prospect of a successful issue to their enterprise. 



LAFAYETTE IN VIRGINIA. 115 

Arnold, who was for some time of the same opinion, was 
thrown into great consternation ; and, notwithstanding 
the signals made by the advancing fleet, dared not, at first, 
send out his pilots to give them welcome. To his great 
relief, however, and to the chagrin and disappointment 
of the besiegers, it proved to be the English fleet sent 
to the succor of the traitor. If there had been a suffi- 
cient naval force, in that quarter, to cut off* his retreat, 
and prevent his receiving this reinforcement by water, 
he would inevitably have fallen into the hands of La- 
fayette. 

Most unfortunately for this enterprise, the French fleet, 
which sailed from Newport to co-operate with Lafayette, 
encountered a British fleet off" the capes of Virginia. A 
sharp conflict ensued, with no decisive results ; but the 
French admiral, finding his vessels much damaged, and 
deeming it imprudent, in so shattered a condition, to 
proceed in the face of a considerably superior force, 
while there were also other British frio:ates in the Ches- 
apeake, returned at once to Newport, for repairs. By 
this accident, Lafayette was deprived of the means of 
transporting and protecting his troops down the bay to 
the scene of action ; while, at the same time, Arnold was 
relieved by the accession of General Phillips, with two 
well-appointed regiments of British infantry. Heartily 
as the British general-in-chief despised Arnold, he was 
no sooner made aware of the southward movement of 
Lafayette, than he despatched this force to his relief. 
As it was accompanied by a superior officer, who would 
supersede Arnold in the command, it is not improbable 
that his new masters suspected his fidelity, well knowing 
that he who was capable of betraying one sacred trust, 
was accessible to temptation in respect to another. 

The English were now masters of the Chesapeake. 
Several of the smaller class of ships were stationed in 



116 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

the bay, and it was no easy matter for an American flo- 
tilla to escape their vigilance. Notwithstanding this, 
however, Lafayette succeeded not only in reaching An- 
napolis in safety himself, but in retransporting his troops 
from that place to the head of Elk. This he accom- 
plished by means of a ruse, which, though it could hardly 
have been attempted in serious earnest, proved, singu- 
larly enough, entirely successful. Two vessels, one of 
eighteen and another of twenty guns, blockaded the har- 
bor of Annapolis, determined to prevent his movements. 
*' In these circumstances," he says, in his letter to Wash- 
ington, " I had two eighteen pounders put on board a 
small sloop, which appeared ridiculous to some, but 
proved to be of great service. On the morning of the 
6th, Commodore Nicholson went out with the sloop and 
another vessel full of men. Whether the sound of eigh- 
teen pounders, or the fear of being boarded, operated 
upon the enemy, I am not able to say ; but, after some 
manoeuvres, they retreated so far as to render it prudent 
for us to sail. Every vessel, with troops and stores, was 
sent in the night by the commodore, and I brought up 
the rear with the sloop and another vessel." 

Lafayette was about marching his detachment back to 
the headquarters of the army, when he received, on the 
8th of April, an order from General Washington to turn 
southward again, in order to co-operate with General 
Greene against Lord Cornwallis, who, it was now sup- 
posed, would be joined by Phillips and Arnold. The 
troops under his command, who were all from New 
England and New Jersey, w«re exceedingly reluctant 
to acquiesce in this movement, and, indeed, were hardly 
in a condition to undertake a new enterprise so far from 
home. Most of them were poorly clad, and in their win- 
ter clothing, and had large arrears of pay due to them. 
Some of the officers were so situated, with respect to 



LAFAYETTE IN VIRGINIA. 117 

their domestic affairs, that Washington made provision 
to relieve them at once. The men, feeling that their 
own concerns were equally urgent, and seeing no rea- 
son why they should not be regarded with as much favor 
as their leaders, showed signs of great discontent. Many 
deserted. In this emergency, besides employing the 
rigorous measures commonly resorted to, to punish those 
of the runaways who were caught, Lafayette, with his 
accustomed generosity, relieved the necessities of his 
troops from his own purse. Borrowing from the mer- 
chants of Baltimore, on his own private credit, ten 
thousand dollars, payable in two years, he expended it 
all in clothes, shoes, hats, &c. Thus relieved, they 
marched forward, with alacrity, to join the southern 
army. 

To his despatch to the commander-in-chief, which de- 
tails the circumstances just nan-at^d. General Lafayette 
added a postscript, which is too complimentary to the 
courage, endurance, and patriotic spirit of the mass of 
his soldiers, to be passed by unnoticed. Having said in 
the body of his letter that, in consequence of the meas- 
ures adopted, desertion was lessened, he adds : — 

" P. S. — The word lessened does not convey a suffi- 
cient idea of what experience has proved to be true, to 
the honor of our excellent soldiers. It had been an- 
nounced in general orders that the detachment was in- 
tended to fight an enemy far superior in number, under 
difficulties of every sort. This the general was, for his 
part, determined to encounter, but such of the soldiers 
as had an inclination to abandon him, might dispense 
with the danger and crime of desertion, as every one of 
them who should apply at headquarters for a pass to 
join their coi'ps at the north, might be sure to obtain it 
immediately." 

This appeal roused all the pride and enthusiasm of 



f 



118 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

the corps. After this, not a man was willing to leave his 
general on any pretence ; and one of the subordinate 
officers, who was so disabled by a wound in his leg as to 
render it impossible for him to proceed on foot, hired a 
wagon, at his own expense, to enable him to follow the 
detachment. 

Strengthened by a volunteer company of dragoons 
from Baltimore, composed of the elite of the young men 
of the city, Lafayette pushed forward with such ardor 
and celerity, that he entered Richmond the day before 
the British troops under General Phillips made their ap- 
pearance at Manchester, on the opposite bank of the 
James river. The British commander was aware of his 
approach, but did not suppose it possible he could reach 
the capital so soon. He was not less surprised than dis- 
appointed, therefore, to find it so occupied and defended 
as to render it prudent for him to retire. 

By a singular coincidence, Lafayette was now brought 
into immediate conflict with the same British officer be- 
fore whom his father had fallen, twenty-three years be- 
fore. It will be remembered that the noble marquis was 
born to orphanage, his father having been mortally 
wounded at Minden, a few months before his birth. 
The battery which he was engaged in storming was de- 
fended by this same Greneral Phillips, then a captain of 
artillery ; and it was one of the balls discharged by his 
order that killed the colonel marquis de Lafayette, at the 
early age of twenty-four. 

Richmond was a place of great importance to both 
parties. A large amount of stores and ammunition had 
been collected there by the state of Virginia, since the 
incendiary visit of Arnold at the close of the previous 
year. It was also rich in other property, which the in- 
vaders seemed to take particular pleasure in destroying. 
In their progress hitherto, they had ravaged the country, 



LAFAYETTE IN VIRGINIA. 119 

burnt the storehouses of every description, and destroyed 
tobacco to the amount of more than ten thousand hogs- 
heads. The mean spirit of Arnold delighted in this spe- 
cies of malicious revenge upon the Americans. On his 
return to the north, he pursued the same dastardly busi- 
ness in many of the small towns and seaports of New 
England, carrying fire and desolation to the defenceless 
villages, but rarely exposing himself to the fire of Amer- 
ican rifles. 

At Richmond, Lafayette formed a junction with Baron 
Steuben, by which his force was augmented to more 
than three thousand men. It was still nearly one thou- 
sand less than that of the enemy, which was composed 
of disciplined and well-appointed veterans, while two 
thirds of his own were raw militia, and the remainder, 
though regulars, miserably clad and equipped. Not- 
withstanding this inferiority, General Phillips did not 
deem it prudent to attack the city. He retreated down 
the river, burning, as he went, the exposed property of 
the citizens. Lafayette hung on his rear till he reached 
the Chicahominy, about eighteen miles below Richmond. 
Here he encamped. The British general, proceeding 
down the river as far as Hog island, was met by a letter 
from Lord Comwallis, then retiring from North Carolina, 
directing him to take possession of Petersburg, where he 
would soon join him. 

As soon as his adversary began, in compliance with 
these orders, to reascend the James river, Lafayette re- 
turned to Richmond, supposing that was again the object 
to be aimed at. On his arrival there, he learned that 
Comwallis was moving northward. Phillips at the same 
time commenced landing his troops at Brandon. Per- 
ceiving in a moment that the two araiies were about to 
form a junction below him, Lafayette made the utmost 
despatch to gain possession of Petersburg. But Phillips, 



120 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

wlio was nearer that point than he, frustrated his design. 
The marquis, therefore, returned hastily to Richmond, 
and commenced removing the military stores to places 
of greater security. 

While reconnoitring the enemy's position at Peters- 
burg, and engrossing his attention in that quarter, La- 
fayette succeeded in sending off, unobserved, by another 
route, a considerable quantity of military stores for the 
southern army, of M^hich General Greene was then in 
great need. 

Four days after entering Petersburg, General Phillips 
died. His career, which had been one of great success, 
and had won him an enviable distinction in the royal 
army, was suddenly terminated by a fever. By this ac- 
cident, the entire command of the British forces in Vir- 
ginia devolved upon Arnold. With him Lafayette re- 
fused to hold any intercourse or correspondence. A 
letter which was sent to him, by a flag, at Richmond, he 
returned unopened, stating at the same time that if any 
of the British oflicers had written to him, he should have 
been happy to receive their letters, and to extend to 
them the courtesy rendered necessary by the loss of their 
commander. This conduct gave great pleasure to Wash- 
ington and the American army, and added much to the 
embarrassment of Arnold in his new and difficult posi- 
tion. 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 121 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA, OR THE BOY AND THE VET- 
ERAN. 

On the aiTlval of Lord Comwallis at Petersburg, on 
the 20th of May, the British force was increased to about 
eight thousand men, veteran troops, more than one thou- 
sand of whom were mounted ; while that of the Ameri- 
cans, under Lafayette, was less than three thousand, and 
the greater part of them militia. An easy conquest was 
confidently anticipated, and somewhat boastfully prom- 
ised, in a letter from Cornwallis to Clinton, in which he 
remarked, " The hoy can not escape me." The result 
proved that neither age, nor experience, nor vastly su- 
perior numbers and appointments, could absolutely guar- 
anty success. Cornwallis was a man of eminent military 
talents, with a reputation inferior to very few in the 
British sei-vice ; but the " boy," to whose capture or 
defeat he had proudly pledged himself, had within him, 
not only the soul and spirit of a full-grown man, but the 
prudence and skill of a veteran officer. It was the pol- 
icy of his lordship to tempt his youthful adversary to 
open combat. The natural ardor and enthusiasm of that 
adversary, and his ambition to secure some brilliant 
achievement, on an occasion when everything depended 
upon him, gave tenfold influence to the tempting bait. 
But the risk was too gi'eat ; and his singularly-mature 
judgment and manly prudence were proof against every 
11 



122 . LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

inducement to attempt anything which did not promise 
certain good to his cause. 

On the 24th of May, Cornwallis moved up toward 
Richmond, where he was joined by a reinforcement just 
arrived from New York, and attempted to gain the rear 
of the American araiy. Lafayette, however, having re- 
moved the most valuable stores from that post, immedi- 
ately abandoned it, and marched rapidly, but in excellent 
order, across the Chickahominy toward Fredericksburg, 
where he expected a battalion of the Pennsylvania line, 
under General \^ayne, to join him. His movements 
were made with so much rapidity and caution, that 
Cornwallis, after pursuing him for some days, was com- 
pelled to give up the chase. Sending off two detach- 
ments, one under Colonel Simcoe, to the Point of Fork, 
at the confluence of the Rivanna and Fluvianna branches 
of the James river, to destroy the stores under the pro- 
tection of Baron Steuben, and the other, composed of 
cavalry, under the celebrated Tarleton, to Charlottesville, 
to arrest or disperse the legislative assembly of Virginia, 
he moved slowly up, and threw himself between the 
position of Lafayette and Albemarle, where the greater 
part of the military stores removed from Richmond had 
been deposited. Simcoe succeeded in destroying a part 
of those at the point, and Tarleton frightened the legis- 
lature into a hasty adjournment, to meet the next day at 
Staunton, on the other side of the Blue Ridge, and about 
forty miles distant from Charlottesville. 

General Wayne, with his battalion, having come up, 
Lafayette recrossed the Rapidon, and marched with so 
much celerity that he overtook the British army, while 
yet a day's march from Albemarle. Apprehending the 
object of this hasty movement, Cornwallis pitched his 
camp near the river, and advanced his light-troops to 
a position commanding the only known road by which 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 123 

the Americans could pass. Here he confidently be- 
lieved the young marquis would be obliged to fio-ht, 
or retrace his steps even more hastily than he had 
advanced. In this he was disappointed. By means of 
his scouts, who were thoroughly acquainted with the 
country, Lafayette discovered, during the night, another 
road, which had long been disused, leading, by a shorter 
course, to Albemarle. This, with great energy and de- 
spatch, he caused to be cleared, and immediately, under 
cover of the darkness, di-ew off all his force in that di- 
rection. The next morning, to the unutterable chagrin 
and disappointment of the British general, the Americans 
had crossed the Rivanna, and taken up a strong position 
behind the Mechunck creek, considerably in advance of 
the British camp, and completely covering the stores, 
which had been the object of all these movements. Re- 
inforced at this place by a body of mountain militia and 
a corps of riflemen, and strongly posted on commanding 
ground, Cornwallis did not venture to attack them, but 
retired, without striking a blow, first to Richmond and 
then to Williamsburg. , 

Lafayette followed with cautious circumspection. Ta- 
king care to keep the command of the upper country, 
and to avoid a general engagement, he held his main 
body between twenty and thirty miles in the rear of the 
foe, all the while harassing his flanks and picking off* his 
outposts with his light detachments. On the 18th of 
June, he was joined by Baron Steuben, with nearly five 
hundred militia ; making his whole force about four 
thousand men. By skilful management, he contiived to 
make the enemy believe his numbers to be much larger 
than they really were, so that he now sought rather to 
avoid than to provoke an engagement. A brilliant skir- 
mish came off* in the neighborhood of Williamsburg, 
between Colonels Butler and Simcoe, in which the former 



124 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

claimed to have gained a decided advantage, tliougli 
compelled, by the appearance of the whole British army, 
immediately to abandon the field. 

Cornwallis, having orders to send off a portion of his 
troops to New York, found it necessary, as a matter of 
prudence, to retire from Williamsburg, and seek a 
stronger position at Portsmouth, where, also, he might be 
protected or relieved by a British fleet. In pursuance of 
this resolution, he crossed over to Jamestown, a part of 
his force taking immediate possession of the island, while 
the greater part remained, in ambuscade, upon the nor- 
thern bank of the river. These dispositions were made 
with the hope of deceiving Lafayette, who followed close 
on his rear, intending to make a spirited attack when the 
main body should have passed over. But the quick eye 
of the sagacious youth instantly detected the artifice. 
The precautions taken to conceal the force on the main- 
land, and the singular display of those on the island, led 
him to suspect a ruse. His officers, generally, were of 
opinion that the movement was not a feigned one, and 
that the circumstances favored an immediate attack. To 
satisfy his ov/n doubts on this point, he proceeded in 
person to reconnoitre the enemy's position, from a tongue 
of land which jutted into the river a short distance above. 
Here the whole movement of his enemy was disclosed ; 
the major part of his force being found compactly dis- 
posed on the bank of the river, under cover of a blind 
or artificial thicket, which had been promptly trans- 
planted for the purpose. 

Returning hastily to the camp, he found General Wayne 
already engaged with the enemy. His pickets being ea- 
sily forced and driven back, the Americans had been 
drawn into the snare, and were pushing boldly forward, 
to overtake and capture the flying guards, when suddenly 
they encountered the v/hole British army, dravm up in 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 125 

order of battle. Wayne, who was never appalled by- 
odds, deemed the boldest course the most prudent one. 
Accordingly, he ordered his small detachment instantly 
to charge the enemy. Dashing vigorously on, to follow 
up this order, a warm action ensued, in the midst of 
which Lafayette amved on the gi'ound. Perceiving the 
unequal nature of the conflict, and fearing that Wayne 
would be wholly cut in pieces, without effecting any good 
object, he ordered him immediately to retreat, and form 
in a line with the infantry, which was then drawn up 
about half a mile in the rear. As it was already night, 
this movement was executed with success, and with little 
loss beyond a few pieces of artillery. He then retired 
with the whole araiy to a station about six miles in the 
rear, and encamped. 

Cornwallis had now learned something of the qualities 
of " the boy" he had to deal with. Suspecting this full 
retreat, immediately after so bold an onset, to be a mere 
stratagem to offset his own, and draw him into an am- 
buscade, he made no pursuit, but proceeded to entrench 
himself in his camp. During this encounter, Lafayette 
displayed not only a prudence and sagacity much above 
his years, but a degree of coolness and courage worthy 
of a veteran officer. His person was often greatly ex- 
posed. One of his horses was killed, but he escaped 
unhurt. 

A few days after these events, Cornwallis pursued his 
route to Portsmouth. Lafayette, at the same time, with- 
drew to the forks of the York river, where he dismissed 
his militia, and sat down, with his comparatively small 
band of regulars, wearied and harassed with watching, 
marching, and countermarching, to take a little repose. 

War has a code of morals peculiar to itself, and, among 
other things, admits of every species of artifice, and even 
falsehood, to deceive the enemy. Men who, in ordinary 
11* 



126 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

cases, would sooner sacrifice a right hand than utter a 
deliberate lie, would not hesitate to act one, as a ruse^ in 
time of war. While Cornwallis was retiring before La- 
fayette, under a false impression as to the extent of his 
force, the latter used every means in his power to keep 
up and strengthen that impression. He had taken into 
his service a very shrewd negro, whom he instructed to 
go into the enemy's camp and give himself up for pro- 
tection. This task he performed so well, that Lord Corn- 
wallis employed him as a spy, and sent him back. He 
was true to his first employer, however, and soon re- 
turned with new instructions. Lafayette wrote a ficti- 
tious order to General Morgan, requiring him to take his 
station with his corps at a certain post, in conjunction 
with the army. The paper was then torn and given to 
the negro, with directions how to proceed. When asked 
by Cornwallis what news he brought from the American 
camp, he replied that there was no news ; that he saw 
no changes, but everything appeared as it was the day 
before. Holding the tattered paper in his hand, he was 
asked what it was, and replied that he had picked it up 
in the American camp, but that, as he could not read, he 
did not know that it was of any importance. Taking 
the fragments and putting them carefully together, the 
general was surprised at the development. He had not 
heard of Morgan's arrival, or of his being expected. It 
increased his caution, however, which was all the object 
Lafayette had in view. 

Not long after this, while Cornwallis was employed in 
fortifying Yorktown, Lafayette inquired of Colonel Bar- 
ber if he knew of a trusty, capable soldier, whom he 
could safely send as a spy into the British camp, and was 
referred to a man named-Morgan, belonging to the New- 
Jersey line. The general sent for him, and told him that 
he had a very difficult task to propose to him, which was. 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 127 

that he should pretend to desert, go over to the British 
camp, and enlist as a soldier. Morgan answered that he 
was ready to do anything to serve his country or oblige 
his general, but that his feelings revolted at such a pro- 
posal. He must assume the character of a spy, and, if 
detected, he would not only lose his life, but bring an 
everlasting disgrace upon his name. After some further 
conversation, however, he consented to go, on condition 
that, if any disaster should happen to him, the general 
should cause a true statement of the facts to be published 
in the New- Jersey Gazette, so that his family and friends 
might not be reproached for his supposed misconduct. 
He then went over to the British camp and enlisted. 

Lafayette's object was twofold. He wished to gain 
accurate knowledsre of the movements and intentions of 
the enemy, and to deceive them with respect to his own. 
Both armies were now on the north side of the James 
river. Some of the British officers had proposed a re- 
treat southward into North Carolina. Lafayette sup- 
posed this would be attempted, and wished to prevent it, 
without risking an engagement. He therefore instruct- 
ed. Morgan particularly to give the impression that the 
Americans possessed all the necessary facilities for cros- 
sing the river at any moment. Morgan had been but a 
few days in camp when Comwallis sent for him and asked 
him many questions. Tarleton was present at the inter- 
view, and took part in the conversation. Among other 
things, he inquired how many boats the " rebels" had on 
the river. Morgan replied that he did not know the ex- 
act number, but had been told that there were enough 
to carry over the whole army at a moment's warning. 
" There !" exclaimed Cornwallis, addressing Tarleton, 
" I told you this would not do."* 

About this time, the French fleet arrived. Lafayette 
had been out to reconnoitre. On his return, he found 



128 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Morgan at liis quarters, in his British uniform, with five 
others in the same dress, and one green-coated Hessian. 
" Well, Morgan," asked the general, " whom have you 
here ]" — "Five British soldiers, sir, who have deserted, 
with me, and a Hessian whom we captured at the out- 
post," was his reply. In reward of his fidelity and ser- 
vices, Lafayette offered to make him a sergeant. Mor- 
gan was gratified to have pleased his general, but declined 
the promotion, saying thut he believed himself to be a 
good soldier, but was not sure that he should make a 
good officer. The general then offered him money, but 
he refused it, saying that he did not need it. " What, 
then, can I do for you 1" inquired Lafayette. "I have 
only one favor to ask, sir," was the reply. " During my 
absence, some person has taken my gun. It is an old 
friend, and I value it highly, and, if it can be restored, it 
will give me particular pleasure." The gun was de- 
scribed, found, and returned ; and this was the only re- 
ward that Morgan could be prevailed upon to accept. 

General Washington was at this time concerting with 
Count Rochambeau an attack on the British headquar- 
ters at New York. Expecting the most active service 
in that quarter, and earnestly desiring to be near Wash- 
ington, Lafayette proposed that he should be permitted 
to join the army in the north, and leave the command in 
Virginia to Baron Steuben, who was a prudent and able 
general, and who had reluctantly yielded it to him, as 
his superior, when circumstances made it necessary. 
Before these matters could be well arranged, however, 
the aspect of things was considerably changed both in 
New York and in Virginia. Sir Henry Clinton had 
received reinforcements from Europe, and consequently 
countermanded his orders to Cornwallis, to forward a 
portion of his troops to New York. The latter general 
was now directed to renew the campaign in Virginia, by 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 129 

taking a strong position on the Chesapeake, from which 
he might act efficiently against any of the neighboring 
states. 

Selecting Yorktown as his principal post, with a sec*- 
ondary one at Gloucester point, on the opposite side 
of the river, Cornwallis proceeded to fortify it in the 
most approved manner. For this it offered many facili- 
ties, though the result proved that in one respect at least 
it was not well chosen, as it was easy to be invested, 
and too open on every side to afford facilities for retreat. 

Nothing could have suited Lafayette better than this 
selection of his adversary. " Such," to use his own words, 
" had been the aim of all his movements, ever since a 
slight increase of force had permitted him to think of any- 
thing but retiring without being destroyed, and saving 
the magazines. He knew that a French fleet was soon 
to arrive from the islands. His principal object had 
been to force Lord Cornwallis to withdraw toward the 
seashore, and then entangle him in such a manner among 
the rivers, that there should remain no possibility of a 
retreat. The English, on the contrary, fancied them- 
selves in a very good position, as they were possessors 
of a seaport, by which they could receive succors from 
New York, and communicate with different parts of the 
coast." This sense of security on their part was in- 
creased by an accident, which, though carefully guarded 
against, proved in the end most fortunate for the Ameri- 
can cause. While Lafayette, full of hope, was writing 
to General Y/ashington that he foresaw he could push 
Lord Cornwallis into a situation in which it would be 
easy for him, with some assistance from the navy, to cut 
off" his retreat — the general-in-chief, who had always 
thought that Lafayette would be very fortunate if he 
could save Virginia, without being cut up himself, wrote 
to him freely of his projected attack on New York, grant- 



130 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ing him permission to take part in it, but, at the same 
time, representing how useful he had been, and might 
still be, in Virginia. The two letters passed each other 
in New Jersey. The one written by Lafayette arrived 
safely, and prepared Washington to take advantage of 
the peculiar situation of L ord C ornwallis. Washington's 
letter was intercepted, and immediately fowarded to Sir 
Henry Clinton. It was in Washington's own handwri- 
ting, and its friendly and confidential tone left no room 
to doubt that the next great move of the American army 
would be against New York. Every thought and effort 
was therefore concentrated to that point, and the army 
at Yorktown was deemed perfectly secure from any se- 
rious molestation. 

At this juncture. Count de Grasse arrived in the Chesa- 
peake with a strong naval force, and three thousand troops 
for the land service. Colonel G-imat, a French officer un- 
der Lafayette, had been stationed at Cape Henry, in an- 
ticipation of this arrival. He immediately comiaunica- 
ted to the count the latest intelligence from both depart- 
ments of the army, requesting him, with as little delay as 
possible, to send up the troops to join Lafayette at Wil- 
liamsburg, and so to blockade the river as to render the 
retreat of the British impossible. 

Washington now perceived that the great and final 
blow was to be struck in his own native state, and im- 
mediately hastened thither with his French allies, and all 
the force that could be spared from the northern depart- 
ment. Meanwhile, Count de Grasse, whose engagements 
imperatively required that he should very soon return to 
the West-India station, strenuously urged upon Lafay- 
ette the necessity of an immediate attack on the British 
at Yorktown, without waiting for the arrival of the nor- 
thern army. He off*ered to aid him, not only with all the 
marines of his fleet, but with as many seamen as he 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 131 

should require. The marquis de St. Simon, an officer 
of great experience, who commanded the French troops, 
united with the admiral in pressing this measure. They 
represented that, the works of Cornwallis being incom- 
plete, Yorktown and Gloucester might in all probability 
be earned by storm, if attacked by superior numbers. 
They also urged that it was quite just, after so long, fa- 
tiguing, and fortunate a campaign, that the glory of ma- 
king Cornwallis lay down his arais should belong solely 
to him who had reduced him to that situation. The 
temptation was a very strong one, and there are few 
generals of his age, enthusiasm, and ambition, who would 
or could have resisted it. A full excuse for the attempt 
was found in the declaration of Count de Grasse, that his 
time was too limited to allow him to wait for the an'ival 
of the troops from the north. Success in such an enter- 
prise would have given unrivalled brilliancy to the mili- 
tary reputation of Lafayette, but would necessarily have 
cost much blood. 

The noble spirit of the youthful general, though pant- 
ing for fame in the honorable discharge of his duty, was 
superior to all the solicitations of selfishness. He refused 
to sacrifice the lives of his gallant men to the hope of 
personal glory, and finally persuaded De Grasse to await 
the arrival of Washington and Rochambeau, when the 
great object of their desires could be accomplished with 
far less waste of human life. 

On the 14th of September, "Washington arrived at Wil- 
liamsburg, accompanied by Rochambeau, Chastellux, 
and the officers of his staff. Hastening, in company with 
Lafayette, on board the flag-ship of the admiral, a plan 
of operations was concerted, which, it was hoped, would 
bring the contest to a speedy issue. At this moment a 
cloud came over their prospects, from which the elo- 
quence and influence of Lafayette alone preserved them. 



132 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Information having been received of a considerable ac- 
cession to the British fleet, under Admiral Digby, the 
count de Grasse, regarding his situation in the Chesa- 
peake as too confined, deemed it his duty to put to sea 
at once, with the hope of falling in v^ith one part of the 
British force before they should concentrate in numbers 
superior to his own. He proposed leaving a few frig- 
ates to blockade York river, and prevent the escape of 
the British in that direction, and going immediately to 
New York, to attack the enemy in detail. 

Feeling that such a movement would put to hazard all 
their present hopes and plans, and leave them exposed, 
in the absence of the fleet, to have their beleagured en- 
emy drawn off by the arrival of a British naval force su- 
perior to that which it was proposed to leave behind, 
Lafayette was commissioned to use his utmost exertions 
to change the purpose of the count. Happily for the 
cause of the American confederacy and of freedom, he 
succeeded in his mission, and thus added another to the 
already numerous instances in which the talents, good 
sense, and earnest love for America, of this accomplished 
young man, were permitted to guide the current of 
events, and give a favorable turn to seemingly inauspi- 
cious circumstances. 

Hitherto, Lafayette had been leader in all his opera- 
tions in Virginia. He was now to act a subordinate, but 
not unimportant part, under the commander-in-chief. 
The siege of Yorktown, it is well known, was ably and 
obstinately conducted on both sides. It was of twenty 
days' duration, commencing on the 28th of September, 
and terminating on the 17th of October. The greater 
part of this time was occupied in preparations for the 
coming storm ; the details of which belong rather to 
general history, or to the biography of the commander- 
in-chief, than to this work. 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 133 

It was not until the 14tli of October, that Lafayette 
was afforded an opportunity for active service. The 
second parallel of approaches was then completed, and 
the American batteries were opened within three hun- 
dred yards of the British lines. The men employed in 
finishing these works were exceedingly annoyed by an 
incessant and very effective fire from two redoubts, on 
the enemy's left, which, being advanced three hundred 
yards in front of their works, completely flanked this 
parallel, and enfiladed the whole line. It was absolutely 
necessary to silence these redoubts, and preparations 
were made, on the 14th, to carry them both by storm. 
The honor of achieving this brilliant exploit was divided 
between the Americans and their French allies. The 
baron de Viominil led on the grenadiers and chasseurs 
of France against one of the redoubts ; while Lafayette, 
at the head of a detachment of Amencan light-infantry, 
assaulted the other. The former indulged so warmly, 
in the presence of the latter, in self-gratulation on ac- 
count of the boasted superiority of the French in an 
assault, that Lafayette was somewhat piqued. Regard- 
ing himself only as an American officer, proud of his 
adopted country, and confident that the men he had so 
often tried would not suff*er by comparison with the vet- 
erans of the old world, he replied, with feeling : " We 
are but young soldiers, and we have but one sort of tac- 
tics on such occasions, which is, to discharge our mus- 
kets, and push on straight with the bayonet." 

It was late in the day when the two detachments 
marched out to the assault. Conscious that they were 
generally observed, and regarded somewhat as rivals for 
the glory of a daring achievement, they both pushed on, 
with a bold front and a vigorous step, to the charge. 
Colonel Hamilton led the advanced corps of the Ameri- 
cans, while Colonel Laurens turned the redoubt, at the 
12 



134 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

head of a company of eighty men, in order to take the 
garrison in the rear, and intercept their retreat. La- 
fayette commanded the whole in person, and was fore- 
most in the charge. Rushing on, without firing a gun, 
and without even allowing time for the sappers to clear 
the way, by removing the abatis and palisades, they en- 
tered the redoubt on all sides at the same time, and so 
completely surprised and overwhelmed its defenders, 
that the whole party, including Major Campbell, its 
commander, was made prisoners, with but little loss on 
either side. 

The other redoubt proved to be more ably manned 
than this, and made a desperate resistance. It was as- 
saulted with the greatest intrepidity, and carried, though 
with a loss of nearly one hundred men. The command- 
ant escaped, with some of his men. Eighteen were 
killed, and forty-two made prisoners. After Lafayette 
had finished his work, and while the conflict was still 
raging furiously on the left, he despatched Major Bar- 
bour, one of his aids, to ask the baron if he did not 
wish for assistance from the Americans. The major 
was shot at and wounded, on the way, but, with admira- 
ble coolness, delivered his message before he would suf- 
fer his wound to be attended to. The profiered aid was 
declined as unnecessary, the brave Frenchmen having 
advanced so far as to render them sure of ultimate suc- 
cess. But the baron was obliged to acknowledge that 
his friend, the marquis, had most effectively retorted up- 
on him the implied though undesigned contempt of the 
morning.* 

* As one of the historians of that period has, gratuitously, and without 
a shadow of proof, reproached both Washington and Lafayette with the 
grossest inhumanity on this occasion, it would be wronging the memory 
of both those heroes to suffer any opportunity to pass, without disproving 
the slander. Mr. Gordon, in his History of the American War, has stated 
that orders were given by Lafayette, with the approbation of Washing- 




CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 135 

The captured redoubts were immediately included in 
the extended lines of the second parallel, and their guns 
turned upon the besieged. Lord Cornwallis, finding 
himself unable to sustain the tremendous fire now opened 
upon him, devised a bold and able plan of escape, by a 
bridge of boats over the York river ; intending to force 
his way, by flying marches, to New York. A violent 
storm defeated his pui-pose, when considerable progi'ess 
had been made in its execution. It is doubtful whether 
he could have succeeded, under the most favorable cir- 

ton, that no quarter should be granted, but that, in retaliation for recent 
cruelties on the part of the British, every man in the redoubts should be 
put to the sword. These orders, he assures us, were given especially to 
Colonel Hamilton, who led the American advanced coi-ps, who, more hu- 
mane than his commanders, refused to execute them, and spared every 
man that remained after the surrender. The story was widely circulated, 
though always contradicted by aU who had the means of knowing the 
truth. The following letter, written twenty years after, puts the calumny 
for ever at rest : — 

" New York, August 10, 1802. 

" To THE EDITOR OF THE EVENING PosT — SiR : Finding that a story, 
long siace propagated, under circumstances which it was expected would 
soon consign it to obUvion, and by w^hich I have been complimented at the 
expense of Generals Washington and Lafayette, has of late been revived, 
and has acquired a degree of importance, by being repeated in different 
publications, as weU in Europe as America, it becomes a duty to counter- 
act its currency and influence, by an explicit disavowal. 

"The story imports, in substance, that General Lafayette, with the 
approbation or connivance of General Washington, ordered me, as the 
officer who was to command the attack on a British redoubt, in the course 
of the siege of Yorktown, to put to death all those of the enemy who should 
happen to be taken in the redoubt, and that, through motives of humanity, 
I forebore to execute the order. 

" Positively, and unequivocally, I declare that no such or similar order 
was ever by me received, or miderstood to have been given, nor any inti- 
mation or hint resembling it. 

" It is needless to enter into an explanation of some occurrences on the 
occasion alluded to, which may be conjectured to have given rise to the 
calumny. It is enough to say, that they were entirely disconnected with 
any act of either of the generals who have been accused. 

"With esteem, I am, sir, your most obedient sei-vaut, 

"A. Hamilton." 



136 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

cumstances, as the presence of the French fleet afforded 
facilities of rapid movement and counteracting manoeu- 
vres, which the American commander had not often 
possessed. 

This hope being abandoned, and the batteries of the 
second parallel completed and put into full operation, 
further resistance v^as useless. About ten o'clock in the 
forenoon of the 17th of October, Cornwallis proposed a 
cessation of hostilities, with a view to capitulation. This 
was immediately granted. On the morning of the sec- 
ond day after, the 19th, the terms were adjusted and the 
articles signed, " surrendering the posts of Yorktown 
and Grioucester point, with their garrisons, and the ships 
in the harbor, with their seamen, to the land and naval 
forces of America and France." The army, artillery 
arms, military chest, and public stores of every de- 
nomination, were surrendered to General Washington, 
and the ships and seamen to Count de Grasse. The 
prisoners, including seamen, exceeded seven thousand 
men. Five hundred and fifty-two had been killed during 
the siege. 

It was thus the singular good fortune of Lafayette to 
act a most prominent and conspicuous part in the closing 
and decisive scene of the American Revolution. Op- 
posed to vastly superior numbers, and to one of the 
ablest and most experienced generals in the British ser- 
vice, he had succeeded in escaping his best laid snares, 
foiling his most judicious arrangements, outmanoeuvring 
his ablest and most rapid movements, harassing him in 
rear and flank, in all his marches, and finally, in partly 
driving and partly luring him into a corner, from which 
all his after-efforts were insufficient to extricate himself, 
and where he was compelled, at length, to lay down his 
arms. And so powerfully was his talented adversary 
impressed with the perseverance, skill, and gallantry, as 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 137 

well as with the humane and lofty spirit of the youthfiil 
general, that he requested, as a favor, when the fortunes 
of war compelled him to capitulate, that he might be 
permitted to treat with him alone, and surrender his 
sword into his hands. To this, however, Lafayette him- 
self objected, from motives of delicacy and regard to 
General Lincoln. That officer had been obliged, a few 
months before, to surrender to Lord Cornwallis, at 
Charleston, and to submit to teims more humiliatinsf 
than are ordinarily required of those whose personal 
gallantry and able defence of their post entitle them to 
the respect of a generous enemy. Lafayette, therefore, 
magnanimously suggested that General Lincoln should 
receive the sword of Cornwallis, exacting precisely the 
same teiTus that had previously been required of him. 

Cornwallis, either overcome with the fatigue and ex- 
ertion of this ill-fated siege, or sick at heart with his 
sudden reverse of fortune, excused himself from appear- 
ing in person at the head of his vanquished army, and 
sent his sword by the hand of General O'Hara, who was 
next in command. This officer, no less reluctant than 
his superior, to surrender to an American, when the 
moment for the ceremony arrived, offered the weapon 
to General Rochambeau. The count, by a graceful ges- 
ture, referred him to Washington, remarking, that, as 
the French army was only auxiliary, it was from the 
American greneral that he should receive his orders. 
Washington declining to accept it, in pursuance of 
previous aiTangement, it was courteously received by 
General Lincoln. In the subsequent ceremony of lay- 
ing down their arms, the British soldiers manifested the 
same proud chagrin as their officers had done, in being 
compelled to submit to such a humiliation by those whom 
they had been taught to despise as rebels and cowards. 
To cover their mortification, in the act, they turned their 
12* 



138 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

faces toward the French line, as if they would acknowl- 
edge them only as the conquerors ; upon which Lafay- 
ette, by way of pleasant retaliation, ordered the bands 
to strike up " Yankee Doodle." The joke was apt, and 
stung them to the quick; and they flung down their 
arms with such violence that many of them were broken. 

On receiving the glittering token of submission, Gen- 
eral Lincoln instantly returned it to Greneral O'Hara, 
with his compliments to Lord Cornwallis. G-enerals 
Washington, Rochambeau, and Lafayette, sent also, by 
their aids, to present their compliments and the tender 
of their friendly offices. Lafayette's aid. Major Wash- 
ington, a nephew of the general, he detained, saying, 
that having made this long campaign against General 
Lafayette, he wished, from the high esteem he felt for 
him, and the value he set upon his good opinion, to give 
him a private account of some of the leading motives 
which had induced him to surrender. The next day 
Lafayette called to see him, at his quarters. It was an 
interesting interview. The "boy" and the man were 
face to face. The boy liad escaped^ and the man was 
his prisoner. Vv^ith that unaffected courtesy and frank- 
ness which distinguish the true hero, Cornwallis gave 
free expression to the high regard and confidence which 
the singular ability and skill of his conqueror had won 
from him, and earnestly commended to his humane re- 
gards his army of prisoners. In doing this, he intimated 
some want of confidence in the kind dispositions of the 
Americans. This Lafayette immediately answered, by 
alluding to the past, and especially to the considerate 
kindness which had been shown to the army of Bur- 
goyne, for he was too much of an American at heart, to 
allow himself to be complimented at their expense. 

Hospitalities were now cordially exchanged between 
the American, French, and English officers, and mutual 



CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA. 139 

health and prosperity were pledged in the social glass, 
and jokes were cracked, and laughter-moving stories 
told, as freely and heartily as if they had always been 
sworn friends and companions. Lafayette, who was 
usually grave and reserved, was often witty in conversa- 
tion, and sometimes could not resist the temptation of a 
fair personal repartee. One day, at dinner. General 
O'Hara, conversing of recent events with the French 
generals, remarked, in a complimentary tone, that he 
considered himself fortunate in not having surrendered 
to American arms alone. " Probably," replied Lafay- 
ette, "General O'Hara does not like repetitions" — allu- 
ding to the fact that he was an officer in the army of 
Burgoyne. 



140 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER X. 

NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 

Lafayette's career of glory in America was now fin- 
ished. Another expedition was concerted, against Wil- 
mington, in North Carolina, the command of which was 
assigned to him ; but, as it required the co-operation 
of Count de G-rasse and his fleet, which could not be se- 
cured, on account of his previous engagements with the 
Spanish fleet and their joint designs on the West Indies, 
it was abandoned. The negotiations for peace, which 
were soon after entered into, rendered his presence in 
America no longer necessary, while his services were, 
on that account, much needed in Europe. He there- 
fore made preparations to return immediately home. 

The part which he had acted in the war, and particu- 
larly in its closing scenes, had been peculiarly gratifying 
to Washington, who, in case of failure or disaster in that 
department, might have been censured for intrusting to 
so young an bfiicer the hazardous experiment of encoun- 
tering, under such great disparity of numbers, one of the 
most experienced and accomplished generals of the age. 
" Be assured, my dear marquis," said he, in a letter of 
that period, " your conduct meets my warmest approba- 
tion, as it must that of everybody. Should it ever be said 
that my attachment to you betrayed me into partiality, you 
have only to appeal to facts, to refute any such charge.'* 

The count de Vergennes wrote to him in a similar strain 



NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 141 

of unqualified gratulation and praise. " I have followed 
you, step by step," says he, " through your whole cam- 
paign in Virginia, and should often have trembled for 
you if I had not been confident in your wisdom. It re- 
quires no common ability and skill to enable a man to 
sustain himself, as you have done, and during so long a 
time, before such a general as Lord Cornwallis, who is 
lauded for his talents in war ; and this, too, with such a 
gi'eat disproportion in your forces." 

From Congress, from the several states, from literary 
institutions, and from assemblies of the people on every 
side, he received the most ample testimonials of the high 
sense universally entertained of his disinterested sacri- 
fices in the cause of American freedom, and of the dis- 
tinguished ability and success with which he had conse- 
crated to it the flower of his manhood. The sentiment 
of admiring gratitude was deep, unanimous, and all-per- 
vading. It followed him across the Atlantic, in prayers 
and blessings, which accompanied him in all his future 
trials and successes — bursting forth afresh from the 
hearts of a new generation, when, after the lapse of half 
a century, he returned again to the country of his adop- 
tion, to witness its giant growth, and receive the homage 
of its children. 

It is diflicult to estimate too largely the service ren- 
dered to our country by this singular young man. It 
was not merely his personal presence and action, his 
feats of gallantry, and the shedding of his blood on our 
behalf; all this, admirable as it was, connected with his 
uncommon maturity of judgment, his prudence and skill 
as an officer, and the fearless daring with which he faced 
the veteran foe at the head of a handful of raw, undisci- 
plined militia, constitutes but a small part of his claims 
upon our grateful remembrance. This he shares in 
common with many others of his own countrymen, and 



142 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

with Steuben, Kosciusko, De Kalb, and Pulaski, who 
did all that zeal and heroism could do, but who, at the 
same time, had little but zeal and heroism to bestow. 
The civil relations of Lafayette gave him immense 
power. His own private fortune was large, and wholly 
at his disposal. This, it has been seen, he did not hesi- 
tate to put to the twofold risk, first of confiscation to the 
crown of France for his bold assumption of the right of 
thinking and acting for himself, in the cause of another 
nation, and, second, of entire loss, by pledging the whole 
as security for the debts of a struggling and bankrupt 
people, whose need he constantly met by drawing upon 
its income for the relief of the pressing wants of the 
army. A volunteer in the cause of liberty, he sought no 
remuneration ; he asked only the honorable opportunity 
of distinguishing himself in her struggles. 

But his greatest service was rendered in the influence, 
direct and indirect, of his name and character. It was 
this, more than all other influences, that procured for us 
the alliance of France, resulting not only in subsidies to 
the amount of twenty millions, to replenish our exhaust- 
ed coffers, but in an army and navy, without whose co- 
operation the great work of American independence 
could never have been achieved. 

To the gi'atitude and love of America, it was his sin- 
gular felicity, at this period, to know that the entire ap- 
probation of his king and country was added. Of this, 
the following testimonial, received on the eve of his de- 
parture, is sufficient evidence : — 

" THE MARQUIS DE SEGUR TO M. DE LAFAYETTE. 

''December 5, 1781. 

" The king, sir, having been informed of the military 

talents of which you have given such multiplied proofs, 

while commanding the different corps of the army that 

has been confided to you in the United States ; of the 



NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 143 

wisdom and prudence that have guided you in the vari- 
ous decisions you were called upon to take respectino- 
the interests of the United States ; and of the gi-eat con^- 
fidence vrith v^^hich you have inspired General Washing- 
ton ; his majesty has desired me to tell you, that the 
praises you have so justly merited on such various occa- 
sions have fixed his attention, and that your conduct and 
successes have made him conceive the most favorable 
opinion of you — such a one as you might yourself de- 
sire, and from which you may depend on his future kind- 
ness. His majesty, in order to give you a very flattering 
and peculiar mark of this intention, renews to you the 
rank of field-marshal in his aiTnies, which you are to en- 
joy as soon as the American war shall be terminated, at 
which period you will quit the service of the United 
States, to re-enter that of his majesty. 

" In virtue of this decision, sir, you may be considered 
as field-marshal, from the date of the signature of the ca- 
pitulation, after the siege of Yorktown, by General Coni- 
wallis, the 19th of October, of this year, on account of 
your fulfilling, at that time, the functions belonging to the 
rank in the troops of the United States of America. 

"His majesty is disposing, at this moment, of his regi- 
ment of dragoons, of which he had kept for you the com- 
mand until the present time. 

" I beg you to be convinced of the pleasure I experi- 
ence in this act of his majesty's justice, and of the wish 
I feel to prove to you on every occasion the sincere at- 
tachment with which I have the honor of being, (fee, 

" Segur." 

Thus did a second triumph await him in returning to 
his native France. The Alliance, the same ship that 
took him home on his previous visit, was placed at his 
disposal again. He landed at L 'Orient, on the 17th of 
January, 1782. Hastening to Versailles, he was greeted 



144 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

by the people on the way, with enthusiastic welcome. 
He was received by the king with the most flattering 
marks of approval. He was complimented and feasted, 
wherever he went. But the queen, while she admired 
the man, and felt justly proud of him as a Frenchman, 
could never disguise her opposition to the American 
alliance. 

Negotiations for peace, between Great Britain and her 
revolted colonies, proceeded at a moderate pace. Hos- 
tilities were not wholly suspended. The two contend- 
ing armies were still in the field, and liable to be brought 
into bloody conflict at any moment. The city of New 
York, with a few other places of less importance, at the 
north, w^ere in the actual possession of the English. At 
the south, the Carolinas presented a theatre of active 
warfare, on which the talented and excellent Greene 
was winning the hard-earned laurels of fame. The 
people of England favored a peace, but the king and 
his ministers obstinately opposed it. The crowned heads 
of the continent interposed their good oflices to hasten 
the consummation of a treaty, one after another, enfor- 
cing their views by recognising the independence of the 
United States, and concluding with them treaties of am- 
ity and commerce. 

Meanwhile, every preparation was made, on the part 
of Congress and the commander-in-chief, for the contin- 
ued vigorous prosecution of the war. In the furtherance 
of these measures, they were zealously and ably assisted 
by Lafayette. All the powers of his mind, and all his 
personal influence, were unremittingly consecrated to the 
interests of America. From the commanding position 
which he now occupied, he was enabled to operate on a 
wide and extended sphere, among the great ones of the 
earth. The unlimited confidence which C ongress reposed 
in him, had induced that body 'to instruct the American 



NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 145 

ministers and agents, in every part of Europe, to commu- 
nicate all their affairs to him, and to consult with him on 
all occasions. He took an active part in all their nego- 
tiations with the English envoys ; but finding them alto- 
gether too slow and undecided to meet his views, he 
resolved on more active measures to bring the matter to 
a favorable issue. By his suggestion and advice, the 
courts of France and Spain resolved on a combined ex- 
pedition, having for its object the entire overthrow of 
the British power in America. An overwhelming naval 
force, selected from the fleets of both nations, was to 
proceed to the West Indies, and seize all the English 
colonies. It was to cany an aiTuy of twenty thousand 
Spanish and French soldiers ; six thousand of the latter 
of whom, after completing the conquest of the islands, 
were to be landed at some point in the United States, 
from which they could conveniently reach and oveiTun 
Canada. 

The arrangements for this foraiidable expedition were 
neai'ly completed. Count d'Estaing was appointed gen- 
alissimo of the land and sea forces, a post which he ac- 
cepted on the express condition that General Lafayette 
should accompany him, as chief of the staff of the com- 
bined armies — a title equivalent to adjutant-general in 
the American army. This aiTangement was readily 
made ; but another, proposed at the same time by the 
count, that Lafayette should be named governor of Ja- 
maica, in the event of a conquest, was emphatically re- 
jected by the king of Spain. " No !" replied the old 
monarch, with some wannth, " I will not consent to that. 
He would make it a repuhlicP 

In communicating to General Washington these plans, 
he thus expressed his thorough American feeling: 
" Though I am to re-enter the French line as field-mar- 
shal, from the date of Lord Cornwallis's surrender, I will, 
13 



146 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

however, keep my American uniform, and the outside, as 
well as the inside, of an American soldier. I will conduct 
matters, and take commands, as an officer borrowed from 
the United States, as it were occasionally, and will watch 
for the happy moment when I may join our beloved 
colors." 

His correspondence with the French minister, Ver- 
gennes, and with Carmichael, the American agent at 
Madrid, evinces the same depth and intensity of Ameri- 
can spirit, together with a coolness and maturity of judg- 
ment, and a reach of thought, rarely if ever seen in a 
man of his age. " Shall we now have peace," he asks, 
" or must we fight before we can come to a proper un- 
derstanding 1 My grand affair appears settled, for 
America is certain of her independence, humanity has 
gained her cause, and liberty will never be without 
A PLACE OF REFUGE. May our present success cause a 
general peace, and France resume her rank and advan- 
tages ! I shall then be perfectly happy, for I am not yet 
philosopher enough not to take a very warm private in- 
terest in public affairs." 

Embarking at Brest, in the early part of December, 
1782, General Lafayette proceeded to join Count d'Es- 
taing, at Cadiz. He was accompanied by four battal- 
ions of infantry, an equipage of artillery, and five thou- 
sand recruits. He had stipulated that these troops should 
be placed, as a detachment, under his command, after 
the reduction of the West India islands, and conveyed to 
the continent, that he might, at length, have an opportu- 
nity of can-ying out the project, long before intrusted to 
him by Congress, of invading Canada — an expedition 
which he had never lost sight of, notwithstanding the 
unfavorable auspices under which it was first commended 
to his attention. 

This grand entei-prise, to be conducted by the flower of 



NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 147 

the armies and navies of France and Spain, would have 
assembled at the islands sixty-six ships-of-the-line, and 
twenty-five thousand men. The corps of Count Rocham- 
beau was to join them fi'om some port of Spanish America. 
The French troops of the camp of Saint Roch, under 
Baron Falkenheim, and a fine division of six thousand 
Spaniards, commanded by General Las Casas, were as- 
sembled at Cadiz. The staff was composed equally of 
French and Spanish officers, of great merit and distinc- 
tion. The secret destination of the armament was only 
known to the generalissimo and the chief of the staff. 
All things were ready, and the fleet was on the eve of 
departure, when despatches were received, announcing 
the joyful intelligence that preliminaries of peace had 
been arranged at Paris. 

So happy was Lafayette in this event, and so eager to 
share in the joy which it would diffuse among his friends 
in America, that he would have hastened himself to con- 
vey the grateful tidings, if he had not been assured by 
the American minister, that his presence and influence 
in Europe were still necessary to insure the full success 
of the negotiations. That no time might be lost, how- 
ever, he applied immediately to Count d'Estaing, re- 
questing him to despatch, on the moment, a fast-sailing 
vessel, to carry the news. His request was instantly 
granted. Le Triomphe was placed at his disposal; 
and with such right good will did she plough the waves 
of the Atlantic, on her errand of peace, that she was the 
first to cast the olive-branch on our bleeding shores. 
She arrived at Philadelphia, on Sunday, the 23d of 
March, 1783. Hostilities were immediately suspended, 
by land and sea. The sword was turned at once into a 
ploughshare, and the voice of rejoicing and of thanks- 
giving went up from every dwelling in the land. And 
to Lafayette was accorded the high satisfaction, not only 



148 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

of forwarding those negotiations which led to this happy 
result, but of conveying the earliest possible notice of it 
to America, and thereby arresting the effusion of blood 
at an earlier day, by more than two months, than it would 
have been done by the ordinary official despatches. 

When Lafayette arrived at Madrid, he found the ne- 
gotiations, which were then in progi'ess with Spain, in a 
manner suspended, by the absence of Mr. Jay. Mr. 
Carmichael had not been officially recognised. Lafay- 
ette was touched on both sides of his heart by this cold- 
ness. His American pride was wounded by the slight 
shown to her accredited representative. His sensibili- 
ties as a Frenchman were wounded, by the appearance 
of suing from the court of Spain, with more humility 
than was meet, the recognition which France had al- 
ready so cheerfully given. Addressing a letter to Mr. 
Carmichael, under date of January 20, 1783, he had 
said : " To France you owe a great deal ; to others you 
owe nothing. As a Frenchman, whose heart is glowing 
with patriotism, I enjoy the part France has acted, and 
the connexion she has made. As an American, I ac- 
knowledge the obligation ; and in that, I think, true 
dignity consists. But dignity forbade our sending 
abroad political forlora hopes ; and I ever objected to 
the condescension ; the more so, as the French treaty 
had secured their allies to you, and because America 
is more likely to receive advances, than to need throw- 
ing herself at other people's feet. Peace is likely to be 
made. How, then, can the man, who advised against 
your going at all, propose your remaining at a court 
where you are not decently treated. Congress does not 
intend that their dignity shall be trifled with." 

In connexion with this subject, he had a conference 
with the Spanish minister, on his arrival at Madrid, in 
which he declared, that if, on the following Saturday, the 



NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 140 

day fixed for the reception of ambassadors, Mr. Carmi- 
cliael was not presented as the charge d'affaires of the 
United States, they should both leave Spain immedi- 
ately, and that, for a length of time, no envoy from 
America should be seen at Madrid. This had the de- 
sired effect. A few days after, he went, in person, to 
Prado, the king's country-seat, and presented Carmi- 
chael. The result was all that was desired. The inde- 
pendence of the United States was formally recognised 
by Spain about four weeks after. It was one of the 
most important objects to be sought for in Europe. As 
Spain had large colonial possessions in America, inclu- 
ding the Floridas, Louisiana, and the command of the 
navigation of the Mississippi, nothing could be more 
desirable to the interests of the United States, than 
friendly relations and a definite commercial treaty with 
that power. For securing these benefits, without vexa- 
tious and injuiious delays, we were indebted mainly to 
the firmness and decision of Lafayette, and to that re- 
markable personal influence and popularity that made 
him, while only twenty-five years of age, the counsellor of 
kins:s and cabinets, and the confidential ao^ent of nations. 

A letter written at this juncture from Cadiz, is so 
strongly marked with the characteristic ardor, simplicity, 
benevolence, and patriotism of the writer, as well as with 
the sagacity and foresight for which he was distinguished, 
that it can not be wholly omitted, without marring the 
integrity of the naiTative. It was addressed to General 
Washington, February 5, 1783: — 

** My dear General : Were you but such a man as 
Julius Caesar, or the king of Prussia, I should be almost 
sori-y for you at the end of the great tragedy, where you 
are acting such a part. But, with my dear general, I 
rejoice at the blessings of a peace, where our noble ends 
have been secured. Remember our Valley-Forge times, 
13* 



150 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

and from a recollection of past dangers and labors we 
shall better appreciate our present comfortable situation. 
What a sense of pHde and satisfaction I feel when I 
think of the times that determined my engaging in the 
American cause. As for you, who can truly say you 
have done all this, what must your virtuous and good 
heart feel, on the happy instant, when the Revolution you 
have planned is firmly established. I can not but envy 
the happiness of my grandchildren, when they shall cel- 
ebrate your name, to have had one of their ancestors 
among your soldiers. To know that he had the good 
fortune to be the friend of your heart, will be the eternal 
honor in which they shall glory ; and to the eldest of 
them, as long as my posterity may last, I shall delegate 
the favor you have been pleased to confer upon my son 
George — (to be called by your name). 

" At the first opening of the prospect of peace I had 
prepared to go to America — but, on a sudden, have 
been obliged to defer my darling plan, from political 
considerations. In June I shall embark. Happy, ten 
times happy, shall I be in embracing my dear general, 
my father, my best friend, whom I love with an affection 
and respect which I too well feel, not to know that it is 
impossible for me to express it. 

" Now, my dear general, that you are about to enjoy 
some repose, permit me to propose a plan for elevating 
the African race. Let us unite in purchasing a small 
estate, where we may try the experiment to free the ne- 
groes, and use them only as tenants.* Such an example 
as yours, would render the practice general. And if we 
should succeed in America, I will cheerfully devote a 
part of my time to render the plan fashionable in the 

* To tliis Washington replied : " I shall be happy to join you in so laud- 
able a work." It was subsequently attempted, as wiU be seen in the 
sequel. 



NEGOTIATIONS IN EUROPE. 151 

"West Indies. If it be a wild scheme, I would rather be 
mad in that way, than be thought wise on the other tack. 

" I am so anxious to hear from you, and to let you 
hear from me, that I have sent my own servant, with a 
vessel, to be set ashore on the coast of Maryland. 

" Your influence, my dear general, can not now be 
better employed than in inducing the people of America 
to strengthen the federal union. Depend upon it, Eu- 
ropean politics will be apt to create divisions among the 
states. Now is the time when the powers of Congi'ess 
must be fixed, the boundaries determined, and the Arti- 
cles of Confederation revised. It is a work in which 
every well-wisher to America must desire to be con- 
cerned. It is the finishing stroke that is wanting to the 
perfection of the temple of liberty. 

" As to the araiy — what will be its fate 1 I hope their 
country will be grateful. Will part of the army be kept 
together 1 If not, we shall not, I hope, forfeit our noble 
title of oflScers and soldiers in the American army; so 
that, in case of danger, we may be called upon from 
every quarter, and reunite in defence of a country which 
the army has so effectually, so heroically saved. I long 
to know what measures will be taken." 

Washington's reply was dated April 5th. " It is ea- 
sier for you to conceive," he says, " than for me to ex- 
press, the sensibility of my heart at the communications 
of your letter of the 5th of February from Cadiz. It is 
to these communications we are indebted for the only 
account yet received of a general pacification. My mind, 
upon the receipt of this intelligence, was instantly as- 
sailed by a thousand ideas, all of them contending for 
pre-eminence ; but, believe me, my dear friend, none 
could supplant, or ever will eradicate, the gratitude 
which has arisen from a lively sense of the conduct of 
your nation, and from my obligations to many of its illus- 



152 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

trious characters of whom, 1 do not mean flattery, when 
I place you at the head. 

On his return to Paris, Lafayette devoted all his talents, 
energies, and influence, to advancing the interests of the 
United States. His object was, to procure for them a 
commercial treaty with France, which should put them 
upon the most favorable footing. To this end, in addi- 
tion to other stipulations, he proposed that four of the 
ports of France should be free to all American vessels — 
one in the Mediterranean, two on the Atlantic shore, and 
one on the British channel. The perseverance and abil- 
ity with which he prosecuted this scheme, and the suc- 
cess of his endeavors, are proof sufficient, of his zeal 
for America, and of his influence in France. The 
ports thus thrown open to the vessels of the United 
States, were Marseilles, Bayonne, L 'Orient, and Dun- 
kirk. Three of them were to be absolutely free for the 
importation and exportation of '* all merchandises, as 
well foreign as domestic," without the payment of any 
duty whatever. Marseilles was to be equally so, with re- 
spect to all articles except tobacco, which was there sub- 
ject to a duty. This concession was no less a favor to the 
ports thus made free, than to America. So sensible was 
Bayonne of the benefit, and so grateful to the author of 
it, that the name of Lafayette, by a special ordinance, 
was inscribed among those of its citizens. 



VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1784. 153 



CHAPTER XI. 

VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1784. 

When these public conceras were all arranged, and 
he felt that he had done all that was then in his power to 
do in Europe, for the furtherance of the interests of 
America, Lafayette turned his thoughts to the indulgence 
of a private feeling,. which he would gladly have grati- 
fied at an earlier day. It was the strongest wish of his 
heart to meet once more his comrades in arms, and con- 
gi'atulate them on the complete success which had now 
crowned their efforts. To this he had been earnestly 
solicited by Washington, and other friends on this side 
the Atlantic. To Madame Lafayette also, a warm-hearted 
urgent invitation was sent to accompany her husband, 
and share in the grateful homage which all were eager to 
render to his virtues. " You must have a curiosity," he 
says, " to see the country, young, rude, and uncultivated 
as it is, for the liberties of which your husband has fought, 
bled, and acquired much glory, where everybody admires, 
and everybody loves him. Come, then, let me entreat 
you, and call at my cottage-home , for your own doors do 
not open to you with more readiness than mine would." 

To this kind invitation, the worthy lady could only 
send an apology, by the hand of her husband. He em- 
barked at Havre on the first of July, 1784, and aiTived 
at New York on the fourth of August. Important as 
New York then was, has since been, and will ever con- 



154 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

tinue to be to the United. States, Lafayette had never 
before seen it, except from the opposite bank of the river. 
During the entire period of his miHtary service, it was 
held by the British as their headquarters, and centre of 
operations. He had often hoped, during that long strug- 
gle, to enter it at the head of a victorious band of assail- 
ants, and drive the enemy out. He now entered it in 
triumph — a triumph more glorious than that of the vic- 
torious hero, marching through blood, and fire, accom- 
panied with the groans of the dying and the din of bat- 
tle. It was the triumph accorded by the heart of a na- 
tion to one of its deliverers. He was received with open 
arms, and greeted with a universal welcome. 

From New York he proceeded to Philadelphia, where 
a similar reception awaited him. But such was his eager- 
ness to reach Mount Vernon, and embrace his ** beloved 
general," that he could not stay to receive the welcomes 
of the people in other places. To describe his meeting 
with Washington, and the residence of twelve days at his 
house, would be a vain attempt. Under similar circum- 
stances, two such men had never met — their work ac- 
complished — their triumph achieved — their hopes re- 
alized — one, a venerable patriarch, the father of his 
country, laden with the honors of a grateful people, and 
the homage of a world — the other, a youth, in the very 
prime and morning of his manhood, who, like a son by 
the side of his father, had assisted in achieving the for- 
tune and fame of both. Each, emphatically, the man of 
the age — one for emancipated America, the other for 
oppressed and struggling Europe — they were the em- 
bodiment of the great spirit of revolution and progress 
in two hemispheres, scarcely less admired by their ene- 
mies, than beloved by their friends. 

It is rarely given to the principal agents in the grand 
reforms of this woi'ld, to witness and enjoy the ripe fruits 



VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1784. 155 

of their labors. But Washington and. Lafayette were en- 
abled to sit down in peace, to the full realization of their 
hopes, and see around them a nation, disenthralled through 
their exertions, springing up to life and freedom. Had 
they been men of a grasping selfish ambition, we might 
easily lift the curtain, and read aloud their schemes of per- 
sonal advantage and the specious arithmetic by which they 
would so divide the spoil as to secure all but the refuse 
to themselves. Had they been Alexanders, or Caesars, 
Fredericks, or Napoleons, with millions of untaught 
slaves, and a standing army at their feet, we might read 
the story of their interview on a thousand pages of his- 
tory. But, being such as they were, in the midst of thir- 
teen free and independent states, with three millions of 
intelligent, thinking freemen around them — their victo- 
rious army disbanded — their own commissions thrown 
up — their power and patronage voluntarily relinquished 
— every sword by which they had achieved freedom's 
battle, tuiTied into a ploughshare, every bayonet into a 
sickle, every soldier into a husbandman, every man into 
a sovereign — here was a scene which the muse of his- 
tory had never before had opportunity of portraying, and 
which, perhaps, the pen of a Lamartine may fitly under- 
take to describe. 

From Mount Vernon he returned northward, visiting 
the principal cities in each of the states, rejoicing in the 
indisputable signs of enlarged prosperity which gi'eeted 
him on every side, and receiving everywhere the most 
cordial and exalted testimonials of a nation's gratitude 
and esteem. 

The influence of Lafayette, as a Frenchman, with the 
northern Indians, had been felt in the progress of the 
war, and was especially illustrated during his temporary 
residence at Albany. That influence was again called 
into exercise on this occasion. Commissioners being 



156 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 



about to proceed to Fort Schuyler, to negotiate a treaty 
with the Mohawk and Seneca tribes, he was requested 
to accompany them. The Indians had given him the 
name of Kayoula, which had belonged to one of their 
most distinguished chiefs. They listened to his words as 
to one of their own chiefs in council. And, through his 
influence with them, the terms of the treaty were easily 
adjusted, and one cause of solicitude in relation to the 
northern border removed. "Let the ears of Kayoula," 
said the chief of the Mohawks, " let the ears of Kayoula, 
the war-chief of the great Ononthio,* be opened to re- 
ceive our words. We love to hear thy voice ; it does us 
good, and never wounds our hearts. Thy words are 
truth. Thy predictions have been accomplished. We 
remember the words thou didst speak to us seven suns 
ago. They have all been verified. Thy words to-day 
shall be proclaimed among the six nations. They will 
sti-engthen the chain of friendship which we trust will 
endure for ever." 

From this place, he traversed the states of New Eng- 
land. In every town, village, and hamlet, through which 
he passed, he was hailed by some scarred comrade in 
arms, and greeted by the fathers and mothers, the sons 
and daughters of the land, as one of its deliverers. In 
some places he was struck with surprise at the gi-eat 
number of women among the multitudes that assembled 
to welcome him. He was told that they were the 
mothers, the widows, the sisters and daughters of the 
brave men who fell in the war, and that the loss had 
fallen so heavily on some places, that the proportion of 
men left in the community was very small. This was 
especially the case in the seaport towns, where, the 
coasting and fishing business being entirely destroyed 
by the British armed vessels hovering on the coast, the 

* The name by which the Indians recognised the king of France. 



VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1784. 157 

whole population was thrown out of employment, and 
the men, old and young, shouldered their muskets, and 
marched, en masse, to the camp. 

Having saluted his comrades in all the principal towns, 
as far as Portsmouth, New Hampshire, he returned to 
Boston, and thence took passage, by water, for the Ches- 
apeake. Virginia hailed his coming with rapture. The 
people everywhere welcomed him as the hero who had 
fought their battles, who had protected their persons and 
property from the ravages of a powerful foe, and who, by 
his masterly skill, consummate prudence, and unyielding 
valor, had delivered their state from the hands of a hos- 
tile army, and struck the gi'eat decisive blow in their 
long conflict for independence. 

At Richmond, he was joined by General Washington. 
Together they traversed, in peace and security, the 
scenes of the recent war. They shared the congratula- 
tions and homage of a gi'ateful people, who knew well 
how to appreciate their services, and the sacrifices they 
had made in rendering them. The legislature of Vir- 
ginia was then in session. Patrick Henry was there, 
and Jefferson, and Madison, and Monroe, with Lee, and 
Marshall, and Randolph, and many others, whose names, 
if not as conspicuous, now, on the tablets of fame, were 
as dear and as honored then, as these. The interviews 
of such men, on such an occasion, their sentiments, their 
conversation, their reminiscences, their anticipations, the 
feelings which thrilled their souls, may be imagined, but 
not easily described. 

Sojourning a few days more at Mount Vernon, on his 
way, Lafayette made a brief pause at Philadelphia, and 
then hastened to Trenton, New Jersey, where the Con- 
tinental Congi-ess was then in session. From that body 
he received the most distinguished marks of attention 
and grateful regard. An address from the president, 
14 



158 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

expressing the sentiment of the nation, was responded 
to in a tone of fervid eloquence and prophetic ardor, 
which was characteristic of his exalted enthusiasm and 
profound devotion to liberty. " May this immense tem- 
ple of freedom," said he, " ever stand as a lesson to op- 
pressors, an example to the oppressed, a sanctuary for 
the rights of mankind ; and may these happy United 
States attain that complete splendor and prosperity 
which will illustrate the blessings of their government !" 

Yielding up his commission into the hands of the 
president, he bade an affectionate farewell to each mem- 
ber, and to the numerous friends who had gathered 
around him on the eve of his departure, and proceeded 
on his way to New York. Nearly all the states through 
which he had passed, in his tour, had bestowed upon 
him and his descendants the rights of citizenship. From 
that date, Lafayette and his heirs became naturalized 
citizens of these United States. 

Such was the estimation in which he was now held in 
France, even at the court where he was so recently pro- 
scribed, that a national ship was placed at his service, to 
convey him home. He left New York, on Christmas 
day, 1784, in the NympJie frigate, and, after a passage 
of thirty-one days, arrived safely in Paris. 

In passing through Philadelphia, Lafayette became 
acquainted with a talented and agreeable young man, a 
recent refugee from Ireland, in whose history and for- 
tunes he took a lively interest. He was a printer by 
profession, and had made himself so obnoxious to the 
officers of the crown, by the liberality of his political 
opinions, and his boldness in declaring and defending 
them, that it was no longer safe for him to remain in 
Great Britain. Leaving everything behind, he fled to 
America, the ample asylum, whose doors had just been 
thrown open to the opj)ressed of all nations. Reduced, 



VISIT TO AMERICA IN 1784. 159 

by his sudden flight, from the enjoyment of comparative 
affluence, he landed on our shores in a state of absolute 
poverty, having only the universal birthright of freedom 
for an inheritance. His story, w^hich awakened a lively 
interest in the city of " brotherly love," coming to the ears 
of Lafayette, he sought an interview with him, and was 
so well pleased with his intelligence, and the fi^ank and 
manly tone of his conversation, that he became at once 
his firm and faithful friend. He not only encouraged 
him in a plan he had contemplated of establishing a pa- 
per in Philadelphia, by becoming a subscriber himself, 
and soliciting his friends to do likewise, but made him 
a present of four hundred dollars in money, as a capital 
on which to commence his business. On this capital, 
the enterprising stranger laid the foundation of an ample 
fortune, which, accumulating by the industry and thrift 
of a long and useful life, enabled him, not only to refund 
the original amount to the generous donor, but to repay 
to others, a hundred fold, the favor he had received, and 
to leave behind him, at the close of his career, a hand- 
some estate to his family, with liberal bequests to the 
charities of his adopted country. 

But Lafayette's kindness to Matthew Carey did not 
stop here. He took an active interest in procuring him 
other friends and patrons. In his farewell letter to 
Washington, dated " On board le Nymphe, New York 
harbor, December 21, 1784," he thus commends the 
young stranger to the kind regards of " the father of his 
country:" "Mr. Carey, printer of the Volunteer Jour- 
nal, has been obliged to fly for his life, and now lives at 
Mr. Sutter's, hatter, in Front street, Philadelphia, where 
he is going to set up a paper. A letter from you, be- 
coming a subscriber, and telling him I have mentioned 
it to you, will the more oblige me, as I have promised 
to recommend him to my friends." 



160 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XIL 

DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 






The few years that intervened between the close of 
the American revolution and the opening scenes of that 
of France, were, to Lafayette, a season of domestic felici- 
ty and honorable repose. In the splendid retirement of 
his own lordly mansion, surrounded by admiring and 
devoted friends, he passed the happiest and most peace- 
ful days of his eventful life ; and whenever, from that 
retreat, he went forth into the world, he was courted and 
honored by the great, and greeted with the liveliest en- 
thusiasm by the people. 

During this period, his house was always open for the 
reception of Americans, and many of them found a home 
there, where cordial and refined hospitalities reminded 
them forcibly of their native land. Always on the alert 
to discover in what way he could promote the interests 
of America, he procured some very important commer- 
cial concessions from France, tending greatly to advance 
the trade between the two countries. The French mer- 
chants had not, at that time, engaged, to any great ex- 
tent, in the whaling business. They were indebted to 
American and English enterprise for nearly all their 
supply of oil, which was admitted to enter under a heavy 
duty. Seeing, in this fact, an opportunity to benefit 
America, without injuring France, he endeavored, first, 
to procure a total abolition of the duties on American 



DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 161 

oils, in order to secure for them the monopoly of the 
market. Finding this impracticable, on account of the 
revenue derived from that source, and the eff'ort then 
making to encourage a home enterprise in the fisheries, 
he contented himself with obtaining, first, a considerable 
reduction of the duty on American oil, and, secondly, a 
contract for the admission, duty free, of three cargoes, 
of about five hundred hogsheads each, for lighting the 
cities of Paris and Versailles. This contract was given 
to a mercantile house in Boston. In announcing this 
result to his friend, S. Breck, Esq., he remarks : " I 
worked very hard to bring this about ; and am happy at 
having, at last, obtained a point which maybe agreeable 
to New England and the people of Boston. I wish they 
may, at large, know I did not neglect their affairs ; and, 
although this is a kind of private bargain, yet, as it 
amounts to a value of about eight hundred thousand 
French livres [$160,000], and government have been 
prevailed upon to take off all duties, it can be considered 
as a matter of importance." 

To the inhabitants of Nantucket, and others engaged 
in the fishing and whaling business, this reduction of the 
import duty was an invaluable boon ; and they testified 
their gratitude in a manner no less unique and original, 
than tasteful. It was thus described, in one of the jour- 
nals of the day : — 

" Although separated from the continent, the inhabit- 
ants of this island have, nevertheless, participated with 
their fellow-citizens in the just tribute of gratitude which 
the great services rendered by the marquis de Lafayette 
to the United States have obtained. As wise, as useful, 
and as enlightened, in peace, as he was brave and skilful 
in war, he has endeavored still closer to draw together 
two nations, already united by policy and reason. To 
accomplish this object, he has devoted his attention to 
14* 



162 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

those commercial ties whicli might prove mutually ad- 
vantageous. With the view of establishing our com- 
mercial relations on a solid and permanent basis, and of 
affording to us the means of paying for the merchandise 
vv^hich we are desirous of exporting from France, he has 
obtained the privilege that our whale-oil (which, with 
our flocks, constitutes our sole riches) shall pay no other 
duty than that of the Hanseatic towns. This generous 
concession on the part of the French government, has 
conferred upon us an extraordinary benefit, as it revives 
our discouraged industry, and establishes us on this 
island, the land of our fathers, from which the new order 
of things would otherwise have compelled us to emi- 
grate. Penetrated with gratitude for so signal a service, 
the inhabitants of Nantucket, in corporation assembled, 
voted and resolved, That each of them should contribute 
the milk afforded by his cow during the space of twenty- 
four hours ; that the whole quantity thus obtained should 
be manufactured into a cheese tveigliing jive hundred 
pounds ; and that the same should be transmitted to -the 
marquis de Lafayette,^ as a feeble, but not less sincere, 
testimonial of the affection and gratitude of the inhabit- 
ants of Nantucket." 

Republics are proverbially ungrateful. If America was 
not so to Lafayette, she has abundantly vindicated her title 
to that character since, in the niggardly pittance with which 
she has mocked the declining years of the " old conti- 
nentals." Ninety-six dollars annually, minus the fees 
and charges of sundry officials, is poor compensation for 
the miseries and hardships of war, and the peril of life 
and limb which it involves. The youthful marquis was 
awarded the honor of a civic triumph ; his name was im- 
mortalized by bestowing it upon towns and counties in all 
the states, and on him and his descendants, to the latest gen- 
eration, were conferred the rights of naturalized citizens. 



DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 1G3 

In addition to these, the state of Virginia ordered two 
splendid busts to be executed in marble, by the celebrated 
Houdon. One of them was placed conspicuously in the 
capitol of the state. The other was presented through 
Mr. Jefferson, to the city of Paris. It was received 
with great public pomp, and placed in the principal hall 
of the Hotel de Ville. This was a place of great dis- 
tinction and importance. Here the National Assembly 
of France held its meetings, and here, on the 12th of 
July, 1789, Lafayette was elected, by that body, to the 
supreme command of the National Guards. 

His correspondence with General Washington at this 
period, is full of interest. It is too voluminous to admit 
of its introduction here in any other form than that of a 
meager abstract. One of the subjects which occupied 
his attention, and engrossed his care, was universal eman- 
cipation, and a plan which he had long contemplated, 
for elevating the colored race to a capacity for freedom. 
He did not admit the doctrine of slavery, in any form, 
into his creed. He was not, like some modern reform- 
ers, in favor of madly overturning the existing relations 
of society, without making provision for the new relations 
that would suddenly arise. He proposed a rational and 
judicious course of preparation, by which the slave was 
first to be elevated to the character and intelligence of a 
freeman, and then admitted to his privileges. For this end, 
he purchased an estate in the colony of Cayenne, with a 
large number of slaves. Proposing the gradual emanci- 
pation of the whole number, he procured for them a com- 
petent teacher, and immediately commenced a thorough 
system of education and discipline, which should prepare 
them to act for themselves. This experiment was a purely 
benevolent one, intended to demonstrate the capabilities 
of the colored race, and the absolute advantages, in an 
economical point of view, of elevating them to an equal- 



164 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ity with white men. A large sum of money was devoted 
to it. The utmost zeal and enthusiasm of Lafayette 
were enlisted in its behalf. The countenance and co- 
operation of several eminent statesmen and philoso- 
phers,* on both sides of the water, were secured. And 
it was in the fulJ flow of successful experiment, promising 
to realize all the exalted anticipations of its noble pro- 
jector, when it was suddenly arrested by the palsying 
hand of the Reign of Terror. Too just, too wise, too 
regardful of the permanent rights and interests of hu- 
manity, to run into the mad excesses of the Jacobins of 
that dreadful day, he fell under the ban of their dis- 
pleasure. A price was set upon his life, his estates were 
confiscated. The experimental plantation in Cayenne, 
with its family of half-emancipated slaves, was trans- 
ferred to other hands, the laborers being first turned 
adrift, and then reclaimed and sold again into bondage. 
What lessons might have been derived from this philan- 
thropic experiment, how far the condition of slavery in 
the world might have been ameliorated by the introduc- 
tion of humanizing institutions, or how far the agitations 
and extravagances of merely theoretical abolitionists 
might have been forestalled and prevented by the result 
of this noble effort, and of others that would naturally 

• Among the American names of distinction which wei'e openly and 
cordially pledged to these plans and views, are those of Washington, 
Adams. Franklin^ Jefferson, Madison, Patrick Henry, Laurens, &c.. Wash- 
ington in his reply to Lafayette's announcement of his pui'chase in Cay- 
enne, used the following unequivocal and emphatic language : " Your late 
purchase in Cayenne, with a view of emancipating your slaves, is a gen- 
erous and noble proof of your humanity. Would to God a like spirit 
might diffuse itself generally into the minds of the people of this country. 
But I despair of seeing it. Some petitions were presented to the assem- 
bly (of Virginia) at its last session, for the abolition of slavery, but they 
could scarcely obtain a hearing. To set the slaves afloat at once, would, I 
really believe, be productive of much inconvenience and mischief; but by 
degi-ees it certainly might, and assuredly ought to be effected ; and that, 
too, by legislative authority." 



DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 165 

have sprung from it, it is difficult now to conjecture. It 
is confidently believed, however, if it could have been 
faithfully carried out under the constant charge and over- 
sight of its humane and sagacious projector, that it would 
have demonstrated beyond a cavil the gi'and problem of 
our age, by proving that it is both safe and politic to en- 
lighten and instruct the slave, as well as feasible and 
wise to emancipate him on the soil. It is the ignorant 
untutored savage that we justly fear. From the educated 
freeman, admitted to the rights and privileges of citizen- 
ship, we have nothing to fear, but everything to hope. 

Imperfect as this noble experiment was, and aiTested 
as it was in mid career, its actual results are eloquently sug- 
gestive. Cayenne was the only one of the French colonies 
in which efforts were made to instruct and elevate the 
negroes. Moved by the arguments and stimulated by the 
example of Lafayette, the minister of the marine, on 
whom the charge devolved, gave directions to the inten- 
dant of Cayenne, to extend the same privileges to the 
negroes belonging to the crown. The planters began 
to follow in the same steps, and the light of intellectual 
and moral day was dawning on the slaves of Cayenne. 
And yet, in direct contradiction of the timid and unjust 
alarms of "the peculiar institution," Cayenne was the 
only one of the colonies in which no disorders took place, 
when the decree of emancipation went forth. Filled 
with gratitude to their paternal friend, the slaves on the 
model 'plantation declared that, if Lafayette's property 
was confiscated, they would avail themselves of the lib- 
erty which the law had proffered them ; but while it re- 
mained in his possession, or under his guardianship, they 
should continue to cultivate it for him. 

The summer of 1785 Lafayette employed in travelling 
through the principal states and kingdoms of continen- 
tal Europe. He visited the courts of Austria and Prus- 



166 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

sia, where, as in all other places, he was received with 
every token of respect and admiration. Notwithstanding 
his well-known republican principles, which were always 
frankly avowed, and conspicuously illustrated, he was 
treated with the utmost cordiality and distinction by 
kings and nobles, as well as by the people. The empe- 
ror Joseph II., of Austria, brother to the beautiful Marie 
Antoinette, and Frederick the Great, of Prussia, showed 
him the highest marks of regard and esteem. The 
latter monarch had collected at Potsdam an immense as- 
semblage of princes, noblemen, and military officers, the 
flower, pride, and strength of a nation then the most war- 
like and powerful in Europe, to witness and take part in 
the grand review of an army of fifty thousand men 
Hearing of the arrival of Lafayette at his capital, the 
emperor immediately sent an aide-de-camp, to invite him 
to his palace, where he received not only the hospitality 
due to a distinguished guest, but the most flattering tes- 
timonials of royal respect and kindness. He was hon- 
ored, in both public and private, with the personal atten- 
tions of " the great captain" Frederick, the most dis- 
tinguished military character of the age. He was highly 
complimented upon his gallant services in America. He 
took a conspicuous part in the reviews and military pa- 
rades of the week, where he had the pleasure of wit- 
nessing the evolutions and manoeuvres of the most highly 
disciplined and best appointed troops in the world, and 
where sieges and storms, assaults and retreats, with all 
the varied evolutions of the camp and the field, were 
enacted to the life, under the eye and command of the 
king. To Lafayette, it was at the same time a treat and 
a lesson, a fete and a school, and he knew well how to 
appreciate the professional advantages as well as the 
personal distinction he enjoyed. 

It is gratifying to observe how personal merit, and a 



DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 167 

high and fearless consistency of character will sometimes 
overcome the strongest barriers of natural prejudice, and 
extort the sincerest expressions of esteem and admira- 
tion from sources whence opposition and hatred only 
could have been expected. From the autocrats and le- 
gitimists of Europe, who contended only for the " di- 
vine right" of kings, and regarded their people as mere 
instruments to execute their will, it could not have been 
expected that the plain republicanism of Lafayette, and 
his manly recognition of the rights of the people, as the 
true sovereigns everywhere, should have met with any 
countenance. It was utterly repugnant to every princi- 
ple on which they were accustomed to reason and act. 
It was in direct antagonism to all their preconceived no- 
tions, and most cherished plans. And yet to the hero- 
ism of the soldier, and the virtues of the man, they were 
compelled to yield the homage of unfeigned respect. 
On leaving Potsdam, Lafayette received from Frederick 
a present of the emperor's miniature, magnificently set 
with diamonds, a token of personal consideration, which 
is usually reserved by monarchs for the most distinguished 
occasions, and which is consequently regarded as one of 
the highest compliments that royalty can bestow. 

On his return to Paris, Lafayette wrote to Washing- 
ton a graphic sketch of this interesting tour. " My sum- 
mer," he says, "has been devoted to pnnces, soldiers, 
and post-horses. I have been rambling through Cassel, 
Brunswick, Berlin, Breslau, Vienna, Prague, Dresden, 
Potsdam, and Berlin again. At Cassel, I saw our Hes- 
sian friends, and among them, * old Knip.'* I told them 
they were fine fellows. They replied with thanks and 
compliments. Ancient foes can meet with pleasure ; 
which, however, I think must be greater on the side that 
fought a successful cause." At Potsdam, he " made his 

* General Knyphausen, commander of the Hessian corps in America. 



168 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

bow to the king," whom he describes as an old, broken- 
down, dirty corporal, covered all over with Spanish snuff, 
his head leaning on one shoulder, his fingers distorted 
with the gout, yet with the most beautiful eyes that ever 
were seen, in which fire, blended with softness, gave an 
expression to his physiognomy as charming in the ordi- 
nary intercourse of social life, as it was severe and threat- 
ening at the head of the army. Here, also, he met his 
old antagonist. Lord Comwallis, who was placed between 
himself and the duke of York, at the king's table, where 
a long and interesting conversation took place in relation 
to American affairs. Abercrombie, and other distin- 
guished British officers were there, at the same time, as 
well as several of his worthy compeers, both French and 
American, in the army of independence. In all the cir- 
cles of regal and aristocratic influence, he heard much, 
and had much to say, of America. The spirit and firm- 
ness with which the revolution was canied through, ex- 
cited universal admiration. The name of Washington 
was pronounced with respect and enthusiasm, which made 
the heart of his pupil and friend glow with unspeakable 
happiness. But they had no confidence in the stability 
of the goveiTiment, or the capacity of the people to gov- 
ern themselves. This was not to be expected. And, 
though Lafayette combated their errors with the power- 
ful logic of an eye-witness and an actor, he left them un- 
convinced, and they have remained unconvinced during 
all the agitations of the sixty years that have since 
elapsed. But now, sudden conviction has seized them 
all. At this very moment, an electric influence has shot 
through all the nations of Europe, crowns are falling in 
the dust, and the old crowned heads, awaking from the 
dream of ages, are fain to acknowledge that kings are 
but men, and that the people are the only sovereigns. 
In one of his •' table-talks" with the emperor, at Pots- 



DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 169 

dam, Frederick declared confidently his opinion that 
America would not long be republican. She would re- 
turn to the good old system. " Never, sire, never," re- 
plied Lafayette — "a monarchy, a nobility, can never 
exist in America." " Sir," said the monarch, " I knew 
a young man, who, after having visited countries where 
liberty and equality reigned, conceived the idea of es- 
tablishing the same system in his own country. Do you 
know what happened to him V "No, sire." The king 
replied with a smile — "He was hanged." Lafayette 
smiled in his turn, but neither of them foresaw or ima- 
gined that, in less than ten years, the prediction would 
come so near being realized, the honored guest of that 
day being the culprit, and the successor of his royal host, 
who was also present at the table, being the jailer and 
executioner. 

The free sentiments expressed on this occasion were 
long remembered and cherished against Lafayette. 
When Dr. Bollman, in 1793, presented to the Prussian 
minister a memorial drawn up by Lally-Tolendal, solicit- 
ing the release of Lafayette fi'om imprisonment, the 
minister replied : " Lafayette has too much fanaticism 
for liberty. He does not conceal it. All his letters prove 
it. If he were out of prison he could not remain quiet. 
I saw him when he was here, and I shall always recol- 
lect one of his expressions which surprised me very 
much at the time. 'Do you believe,' said he, *that I 
went to America to obtain military reputation] — it was 
for liberty I went there. He who loves liberty can only 
remain quiet after having established it in his own coun- 
try.' " 

The cause to which Lafayette had consecrated him- 
self, was that of the people. Liberty, in his view, was 
another term for wise and equal laws, and its achieve- 
ment consisted in restoring to the common people those 
15 



170 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

rights and privileges which the prevalence of false sys- 
tems, and the endless usurpations of rulers, had frittered 
away. In the prosecution of this grand object, no work 
lyas too great to be attempted, and no service too minute 
or too humble, to command his attention. Though him- 
self a nominal adherent of the church of Rome, he could 
no more tolerate the tyranny of a pope or a priest, than 
that of a king. Finding that the protestants of France 
were still laboring under severe disabilities, on account 
of their faith, he immediately espoused their cause, pur- 
suing it with his accustomed energy and zeal, till he 
procured a decree for their relief. 

The protestants resided chiefly in the south of France, 
their principal congregation being at Nismes, in the de- 
partment of Gard. Under cover of a journey to Cha- 
vagniac, his own paternal estate, which lay in that direc- 
tion, Lafayette visited Nismes, and called on the vener- 
able Paul Rabaut, the apostle and almost martyr of the 
persecuted faith. The interview was sublime and af- 
fecting. Having listened awhile, in silence, to his dis- 
tinguished visiter, until he learned the object of his 
mission, the aged patriarch raised his hands and eyes to 
heaven, and exclaimed, in the words of Simeon, " Lord, 
now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine 
eyes have seen thy salvation." It was concerted, that, 
as soon as Lafayette had prepared the way in Paris and 
Versailles, Rabaut de St. Etienne, the eldest son of the 
patriarch, and himself a protestant minister, should pro- 
ceed to the capital, to confer with other liberal patriots 
there, who would further the object they had in view. 

Loaded with blessings, and followed by the prayers 
of these persecuted men, Lafayette returned to Versailles, 
and commenced his work of charity, by consulting with 
Rochefoucauld, Malesherbes, and others of the same lib- 
eral sentiments. Young Rabaut arrived in due time. 



DOMESTIC REPOSE AND PUBLIC HONORS. 17] 

His simple piety, his lofty self-devotion, his intelligence, 
and the unaffected purity of his life and manners, made 
a most favorable impression. Hearts and hands were 
enlisted in the cause, prejudices melted away, bigotry 
relaxed its stern pretensions, and justice gave back to 
the oppressed the invaluable, inalienable right to wor- 
ship God in their own way — to obey him rather than 
man. 

Writing to Washington on this subject, May 11, 1785, 
he said : " Protestants in France are under intolerable 
despotism. Although open persecution does not exist, 
it depends wholly upon the whim of the king, the queen, 
parliament, or any of the ministry. I have taken it into 
my head to be a leader in this affair, and to have their 
situation changed. It is a work of time and some dan- 
ger ; but I run my chance." 

It is through such hazards and toils that the great 
work of humanity is accomplished. He who would 
wrench power from the hand of oppression, or achieve 
any part of a nation's deliverance, must "run his chance" 
for glory, a dagger, or a halter. The great epochs of 
Time always produce men equal to the emergency. Let 
us who reap the golden harvest, cherish the memories, 
and emulate the virtues, of them who broke up the fal- 
low-ground, and watered it with their blood. 



172 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

The finances of France were reduced to a state of the 
utmost disorder. The most wasteful extravagance, as 
well as the most shameless profligacy, had given an in- 
famous distinction to several of the reigns immediately 
preceding that of Louis XVI. To supply means for 
the prodigal expenditures of the crown, all the natural 
resources of the kingdom had been exhausted, and a heavy 
and yearly increasing debt had been accumulated. To 
cover the deficiency thus created, and, at the same time, 
to supply the ceaseless demands upon the treasury, re- 
sort was had to every species of taxation, till the peas- 
antry and the common people, on whom most of the 
burdens of government rest, were ground into the dust. 
There never lived a more miserable, down-trodden, op- 
pressed race, than the poor of France were at this period. 
The chief duty of a minister was to devise means to mul- 
tiply their burdens, and to extract from the miserable 
remnants of their means all that tyranny and rapacity 
might claim. 

At length, when every resource failed, an assembly 
of the notables was called, by order of the king, to assist 
in devisino; measures of relief for his embarrassed finan- 
ces. The members of this assembly, nominated by the 
king, were chosen fi'om the most distinguished of the 
nobility, the clergy, and the commons. They were di- 
vided into several bureaux or committees. Over each 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 173 

of these bureaux a prince of the royal family presided. 
The law providing for this assembly required that all 
its members should be at least thirty years of age. La- 
fayette wanted more than six months of that age at the 
opening of the assembly ; yet he was elected, though 
not without opposition from the minister Calonne, the 
law having been suspended in his favor. Count d'Ar- 
tois, brother of the king, and afterward Charles X., was 
placed over the section to which Lafayette belonged. 
This prince was quicksighted enough to perceive that 
he had difficult materials to work with ; and, with the 
usual sagacity of princes, he attempted to subdue the 
members by intimidation. 

The first thing that was demanded was the refonn of 
abuses ; and, as a necessary preliminary to that, an in- 
quiry into the administration of public affairs. This was 
by no means agreeable to the king. He had hoped for 
measures of aid for the future, without any serious med- 
dling with the past. But Lafayette, and others of the 
same class, insisted on knowing the full extent of the 
evils they were called upon to remedy, and expo- 
sing, with a view to removal, the cause of those evils. 
Such an investigation was painful to royalty, and it 
brought to light a long train of abuses too appalling to 
be contemplated. There was a deficiency in the treas- 
ury of more than a hundred and forty millions of livres. 
The most shameful peculation prevailed in every depart- 
ment. The administration of justice was coriTipted in 
all its sources. The royal prerogative was overshad- 
owed and overawed ; and being wielded, for the most 
part, by a selfish and ambitious ministry, it wanted even 
the safeguard of the king's known humanity and love 
of truth. 

On all these topics, Lafayette spoke with a plainness 
and energy to which the delicate ear of royalty was 
15* 



174 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

wholly unaccustomed. He went directly to the point at 
issue, and resisted every effort at concealment. He 
was the first, and the most resolute, in condemning the 
" lettres-de-cachet,^^ a secret and summary instrument of 
despotism, by which private arrests were made, and all 
the forms of law superseded. He entered a bold and 
eloquent protest against every species and degree of re- 
ligious persecution. The duty on salt,* which was the 
heaviest grievance of the people, and the most despotic 
folly of the crown, he also procured to be abrogated, 
appending to the resolution which demanded this meas- 
ure of relief, an earnest request to the king that he would 
immediately order that " all the unfortunate persons who 
had, on that account, been loaded with irons, or dragged 
to the galleys, should be immediately restored to their 
families and to freedom." 

The wasteful prodigality which had characterized all 
the public expenditures, was commented upon with great 
warmth and severity. The presiding officer of the com- 
mittee reported the speeches and remarks to the king. 
He also conveyed to him the resolutions and suggestions 
which, from day to day, were matured in the assembly. 
The king was seriously displeased with the plainness 
and severity of some of the speeches, and demanded that 
all statements in the nature of complaints of the govern- 
ment, and all proposals for reform implying censure of 
any of its departments, should be given in writing, and 
signed by the person proposing it. This kind of indi- 

* The salt-tax was one of those peculiar inventions of a disjointed era, 
which injply, on the part of its author, no less a diseased inteEect, than a 
corrupt heart. It required that every individual of the common people 
should purchase at the government depots, at a stipulated price, a certain 
quantity of salt per annum. Every father was obliged to purchase that 
quantity for each of his children from the day of its birth. The quantity 
was much greater than any adult could consume, and the price was exor- 
bitant. It was a yoke grievous to be borne, and occasioned the gi'eatest 
distress among the peasantry. 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 175 

vidual responsibility, it was supposed, would check the 
boldness of censure ; but the spirit of Lafayette was 
not to be intimidated by any mere mark that royalty or 
its instruments could set upon him. He asked for noth- 
ing but what was right, and he would not yield the right 
of askinor- that. On the announcement of the king's de- 
sire, he instantly rose in his place, and requested the 
president to thank the king for the permission thus given, 
to add the force of personal influence and confirmation to 
the measures which their public duty required them to 
propose — a permission which he promised to take advan- 
tage of, "with the zeal, impartiality, and freedom, whjlch 
should ever actuate his conduct." / 

This was followed by a manly, undisguised statement 
of some of the principal abuses, by which the finances 
of the government had become deranged, and the bur- 
dens of the people rendered insupportably oppressive. 
'' Great disorder," he said, " supposes great depredation. 
The millions that are dissipated are raised by impost; 
and an impost can only be justified by the real exigences 
of the state. All the millions given up to cupidity or 
depredation, are the fruit of the sweat, the tears, and 
perhaps the blood, of the nation." 

Count d'Artois having objected to this memorial, as 
too personal and emphatic in its tone and language, La- 
fayette replied, that he possessed by birth the right of 
laying his representations at the foot of the throne. 

It will be remembered, that the French ministry, in 
justifying their early recognition of American independ- 
ence, and their interference in American affairs, made 
the remarkable concession, that the United States were 
in fact already independent, being made so by virtue of 
their own declaration. Lafayette, who received that an- 
nouncement in the camp at White Plains, immediately 
said to General Washington, " We will take care to re- 



176 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

mind the king of that at some future day." He was 
always on the lookout for omens of liberty, and always 
ready to secure every step of advance already made. 
He declared to several influential members of the as- 
sembly, his determination not to let the present opportu- 
nity pass, without securing some good results to France, 
The calling of the assembly was a measure of absolute 
necessity on the part of the king. The crown was bank- 
rupt, and would be irrecoverably so, without its assistance. 
He proposed, therefore, to make it a prerequisite in ren- 
dering that assistance, that the king should formally and 
solemnly acknowledge certain specified constitutional 
principles, for the future administration of the govern- 
ment. The memorials which developed the germs of 
those principles, are worthy of the head and heart that 
produced them. They show a depth of thought, a calm, 
prudent, watchful regard for every interest of the people, 
blended with a sincere and respectful recognition of the 
king and his just prerogatives ; a far-reaching .sagacity, 
and high moral courage, rarely found in the high places 
of an aristocratic dynasty. 

As a specimen of his earnest and pointed advocacy 
of the rights and interests of the common people, the 
following extract may serve the present purpose : " I 
know that the reduction of taxes demanded would ap- 
pear small, when compared with the dissipation and 
luxury of the court and the higher classes of society ; 
but let us follow those millions when dispersed among 
the small cottages of the poor, and we shall behold the 
widow's and orphan's mite, the last vexation which for- 
ces the laborer to quit his plough, and condemns the 
family of the honest artisan to pauperism." 

Having in a manly, decided, yet calm and moderate 
tone, exposed the enormous evils of the existing state 
of things, and proposed extensive retrenchments, and a 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 177 

system of well-balanced accountability in all the depart- 
ments of public business, he frankly announced his con- 
viction that the nation had reached a gi'eat crisis in its 
affairs ; that the events which had already transpired, 
and the measures which were now to be adopted, must 
of necessity bring about *' a neiu order of things^ He 
therefore earnestly entreated the king to complete what 
he had already so well begun, by convoking a National 
Assembly. 

These last words fell upon the ears of the prince- 
president like a clap of thunder. " What, sir !" he ex- 
claimed, " do you ask for the convocation of the states- 
general ]" 

"Yes, my lord," was the unhesitating reply, "and 
even more than that." 

" You wish me, then, to write, and to cany to the 
king, that the marquis de Lafayette moves to convoke 
the states-general ?" 

" Yes, my lord." 

Here commenced the drama of the French revolution. 
The remoter causes had been operating through ages of 
slow and wasting oppression ; but the magic word which 
set this teiTible engine in motion — the match which 
lighted the train to this mighty magazine — was the sim- 
ple proposition of Lafayette, to call an assembly of the 
representatives of the people. 

The government of France was an absolute despotism. 
The king was the supreme arbiter of its destinies. He 
appointed his own ministers, made his own laws, levied 
and raised taxes at his pleasure, and lavished his treas- 
ures as he pleased, till the resources of the nation were 
exhausted; then, utterly unable to devise measures ade- 
quate to replenish his coffers, he called together, of his 
own will, and subject to his own mode of organization 
and control, an assembly of the notables. There was 



178 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

something ridiculous in tlie very name ; and Lafayette 
humorously burlesques it, in a letter to Washington, re- 
marking, that " wicked people called them not-ahlesJ* 
It was composed of the very aristocracy of the land. 
The two brothers of the king, all the princes of the 
blood, dukes and peers, the highest dignitaries of the 
church, the most distinguished among the nobility, and 
the mayors and chief magistrates of some of the princi- 
pal cities of the kingdom, constituted this assembly. It 
was a representation of every interest but that of the 
people. It was not, indeed, necessary that they should 
have been represented there, as the leading design of the 
assembly was to induce the privileged orders, who com- 
posed it, to relieve the people, and replenish the ex- 
hausted treasure, by self-imposed assessments upon their 
own estates and incomes. Their deliberations were con- 
fined to certain measures proposed by the minister. But 
such men as Lafayette were not to be bound by arbitra- 
ry and unreasonable restrictions. They demanded con- 
cessions on the part of the king, preliminary to yielding 
to him the right to tax their estates. They asked em- 
barrassing questions. They insisted upon awkward in- 
vestigations, in order that they might fully understand 
the extent of the evil to be remedied. It was the dis- 
tinctive glory of Lafayette, that the concessions he de- 
manded embraced the interests and the welfare of the 
people. He sought no aggrandizement of the nobility ; 
no perquisites of privilege or power for his own order. 
He rather aimed to reduce them, by elevating the whole 
nation. He demanded an equality of rights — personal 
liberty for all, religious liberty for all, and a representa- 
tion in the government for all the governed. 

These demands were rejected. The assembly of no- 
tables was dissolved, without accomplishing the object 
for which it was called. The king attempted, by new 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 179 

measures of arbitrary power, to prop up his waning au- 
thority. But it was too late. The assembly, though en- 
tirely aristocratic in its composition, and trammelled by 
royal interference, had done much to show the necessity 
of a great public reform, and to assert the representative 
rights of the people. Revolution which knows no 
retrogade, had already begun. 

Calonne, the prime minister, at whose instigation the 
more recent acts of tyranny had been perpetrated, and 
who proposed to the king to send Lafayette to the Bas- 
tile, for his bold propositions in the assembly, was una- 
ble to hold his place. The assembly could not convert 
nor control him, but it effected his removal from office. 
Necker, the able, honest, incorruptible Swiss financier, 
was again called to take the charge of the treasury, and 
the convocation of the states-general was resolved upon. 

This was not a regularly-organized legislative body. 
It had no existence but in the arbitrary will of the king. 
There was no constitution or compact between him and 
the people, which provided for such an assembly, and 
apportioned its powers and prerogatives. Like the as- 
sembly of the notables, it was called together by a royal 
edict, with a view, not to ameliorate the condition of the 
people, or devise means to extend their liberties and 
privileges, but rather to improve the condition of the 
crown, to replenish its bankrupt coffers, and relieve its 
treasury of an insupportable burden of debt. 

An important preliminary question arose, which led 
to a second meeting of the notables. It was public opin- 
ion, loudly and peremptorily expressed, that had driven 
the king to decide upon calling the states-general. The 
same public opinion now demanded a liberal infusion of 
the popular principle in its organization. The states, 
or estates of France were three, the nobles, the clergy, 
and the commons. The last was called le tiers etat, the 



180 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

third, estate, known hitherto only as the bearer of all the 
public burdens, and recognised only as subjects. This 
was now to be convened only as an instrument of royal 
will, to raise subsidies for his exchequer. He designed, 
in the construction of the assembly, to place them in 
check by the other two orders, by giving them only an 
equal representation, and requiring that they should meet 
in separate chambers, and act by concurrent votes. Pub- 
lic opinion, however, demanded that the representatives 
of the commons should be equal to that of both the 
other estates, and that they should constitute one joint 
assembly, to deliberate upon the affairs of the nation. 
As the clergy were, in fact, a kind of nobility, a privi- 
leged order, exempt from taxation, it was manifestly right 
and equitable that the commons should be thus repre- 
sented. In no other way, indeed, could they be said to 
be represented at all ; inasmuch as in all matters of con- 
flicting interest they would always be in a hopeless mi- 
nority. 

Louis XVI. was naturally disposed to justice and lib- 
erality. He really desired the welfare of his people. 
But he wanted the decision of character to take so great 
a responsibility. He therefore convoked another assem- 
bly of the notables, to advise him what to do. Lafay- 
ette, as might have been expected, took the popular side, 
'in which he was supported by some of the ablest men 
in France. The debate was a stormy one, calling into 
exercise all the pride and selfishness of a pampered aris- 
tocracy, and all the fervid zeal and fearless eloquence 
of the sincere advocates of liberty. 

The decision was unfavorable to the people. But the 
people were not to be put down. They caused them- 
selves to be heard through so many channels of influence, 
and with so powerful an appeal to the common sense 
and the better feelings of the king, that he yielded the 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 181 

point, so far as to order that the number of the deputies 
of the commons should be equal to that of the nobles 
and the clergy united. 

The states-general assembled in May, 1789, the three 
orders meeting in separate departments. The question 
of a joint meeting of the three estates, which had already 
been discussed in public, was raised in the chamber of 
the commons. A proposition to that effect, sent up to 
the other chambers, though ably advocated by Lafayette, 
was rejected by the nobles. The clergy, by a consider- 
able majority, were in favor of it, but were overruled 
by a still larger majority of the nobles. The commons 
persisted, and refused to organize except in a joint as- 
sembly of the three orders. They claimed the right of 
examining the credentials of all the members, and sub- 
mitting their own in a public joint session. Several 
weeks elapsed in the discussion of this point, the com- 
mons all the while gaining confidence in themselves and 
influence with the people. At length, they took the bold 
responsibility of proceeding to business without waiting 
longer for the consent of the nobles. On the 17th of 
June, they resolved themselves into a legislative body, 
under the name of the National Assembly, declaring 
their intention, in that capacity, *' to accomplish the re- 
generation of France." 

The spirit of freedom was abroad. That name, which, 
pronounced by the lips of Lafayette only two years be- 
fore, had startled Count d'Artois from his seat, and elec- 
trified the assembly of notables, was now openly and 
fearlessly adopted — adopted by the representatives of 
the common people, in the face of the nobles and the 
crown, in whom alone all power had hitherto resided. 
Never was a bolder, a more heroic attitude assumed by 
any body of men on earth. The chamber of the third 
estate had then no existence but in the sovereign will 
16 



182 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

and condescension of the king. It had no acknowledged 
rights, no prerogatives, no constitution, no treasury, no 
army, no arm to support it, but the inherent, jure-divino 
sovereignty that everywhere and always resides in the 
people, and waits only to be asserted. 

The court and the nobles were thrown into the utmost 
consternation at this daring and unexpected measure. 
The clergy, who had all the while leaned to the liberal 
side, resolved to accept the invitation of the commons, 
and immediately joined their assembly. Doubly alarmed 
by this defection, the nobles called upon the king to in- 
terpose the royal prerogative, and compel the refractory 
commons to confine themselves within the limits he had 
prescribed. This he attempted by proposing to attend 
the session in person, hoping to overawe them by the 
presence of the supreme power, before which all sub- 
ordinate powers were held as suspended. Preparatory 
to this display of his supremacy, he closed the hall where 
they held their meetings, and stationed a guard of sol- 
diers about the doors. Assembling, as usual, on the morn- 
ing of the 20th of June, the deputies were notified that 
the king had adjourned the sitting until the 22d. Hav- 
ing regularly adjourned their own sitting, and by no 
means admitting that, because the king had called them 
together to exercise an inherent right, which had been 
wrongfully withheld from them, he had therefore the 
power to recall that right, and dissolve their assembly, 
they immediately repaired to the Tennis court, a large 
unoccupied building, where, without seats, or furniture 
of any kind, and subject alike to the formidable inter- 
ference of royal bayonets, and the disturbing acclama- 
tions of the multitude, they calmly proceeded to fulfil 
their high commission. Convinced that the usurping 
power which had so long held back their rights, and 
which had now conceded them only for a moment, to 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 183 

• 

subserve its own ends, was eager to reclaim them, they 
resolved, by one bold and decided act, to secure them 
for ever. They fully understood that, between self-gov- 
ernment and tyranny, freedom and slavery, there was no 
neutral ground. Having obtained a standing in the fo- 
rum, and a hearing in the councils of the government, 
they were determined never to abandon the one, or suf- 
fer the other to be silenced, till France was regenerated, 
and a just balance devised between the power of the ru- 
ler, and the rights of the peoj)le. They demanded a 
CONSTITUTION, a solemu wi'itten compact, to which the 
governors as well as the governed, should be always 
amenable. And, that there might be no quailing or shrink- 
ing under the power of royalty, they bound themselves, 
each to the other, under a solemn oath, administered in 
open assembly, and subscribed by all but one of the dep- 
uties, " never to separate, and to assemble whenever cir- 
cumstances should require, till the constitution of the 
kingdom should be established and founded on a solid 
basis." 

Like the Declaration of Independence in America, 
this open and fearless act of the plebeian assembly, sec- 
onded as it was with loud demonstrations of popular 
sympathy, made the foundations of the throne tremble. 
It aimed a death-blow at prerogative and prescription. 
It sent consternation and alarm through all the ranks of 
the aristocracy. The nobles were even more sensitive 
than the king. By a large majority they voted to repair 
in a body to the palace, and urge him immediately to 
intei-pose the strong arm of the crown to save the crum- 
bling fabric. Lafayette, and a few able independent 
men of that order, who preferred popular right to indi- 
vidual privilege, protested vehemently against this meas- 
ure, as alike impolitic, unjust, and dangerous. They 
urged the necessity of yielding immediately to the de- 



184 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

mands of public opinion. With Lafayette, it was a mat- 
ter both of principle and of feeling, .and he advocated the 
cause with the double force of one whose zeal is the 
offspring of conviction, and whose duty and inclinations 
harmonize. His fellow-magnates trembled with appre- 
hension for the loss of their privileges. He desired no 
privileges, but those which everywhere belong to moral 
worth and intellectual superiority, and which are open 
alike to all. 

Sustained by a minority of only forty-seven, in a body 
of two hundred and fifty members, Lafayette boldly and 
eloquently advocated the cause of the people. He 
warned the nobles to beware, for their own sakes, how 
they stood in the way of the progress of liberty. He 
depicted the old system of proscription and tyranny as 
tottering on its foundations, and those who should madly 
and selfishly cling to it, as perishing amid its awful iniins. 
He appealed to the eternal principles of truth and jus- 
tice. But it was all in vain. He talked to men of one 
idea. He reasoned with the blind upon the nature and 
power of light. He made no impression upon the mass ; 
but he carried with him the best and the ablest men of 
that assembly. 

Intrigue, dissimulation, and intimidation, were resorted 
to, in the vain hope of crushing in embryo the giant 
spirit of the popular will. The royal sitting, proposed 
for the 22d, was postponed to the 23d. The Tennis 
court, to which the assembly had adjourned, was hired 
by the princes for their own use, in the hope of breaking 
up the meeting for that day. But the deputies of the 
people were not to be so diverted from their purpose. 
Repairing to a church in the vicinity, cheered and sus- 
tained by loud demonstrations of popular enthusiasm, 
they were immediately joined by a majority of the cleri- 
cal deputies. 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 185 

On the morning of the 23d, the hall of the states was 
surrounded by an armed guard. The populace was en- 
tirely excluded. The deputies of the third estate were, 
for some time, kept waiting at the door ; and when at 
length they were admitted, they found their seats pre- 
occupied by the nobles, and by those of the higher clergy 
who joined them in resisting the encroachments of the 
people. Presently the herald appeared, announcing the 
aiTival of the king. He was received in profound silence. 
Surrounded with all the insignia of regal power, he 
mounted the throne, and addressed the assembled states 
in a tone of unyielding, dictatorial authority. He cen- 
sured, in strong terms, the proceedings of the " National 
Assembly," denounced their assumption of that imposing 
title, declaring that they were only one, and that the low- 
est, order of the states, commanded them to preserve the 
distinctions of the separate orders, to maintain the an- 
cient rights and privileges of the nobility, and to beware 
how they overstepped the bounds assigned them by his 
sovereign will, or trespassed, in any way, upon the pre- 
rogatives of the crown. With these injunctions, he dis- 
missed the assembly, commanding them to separate im- 
mediately. 

Withdrawing from the hall in the order of rank, the 
king led the way, followed by the nobles and a portion 
of the clergy. As the last of their number was passing 
the threshold, Mirabeau, smarting under the indignities 
he had suffered, and burning not less with a thirst for 
revenge than with the love of liberty, sprang to his feet. 
" Gentlemen," he exclaimed, in a tone of voice that rang 
through the hall, and fixed all eyes upon him — "Gen- 
tlemen, I grant that it may be for the present peace and 
quiet of the country, that we should give heed to the 
instructions we have just received. But the presence 
of despotism here is fi'aught with infinite danger. To 
16* 



186 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

devise good for the nation we must deliberate. To de- 
liberate, we must be free. What means this insulting 
dictation 1 this threatening display of arms 1 this flagrant 
violation of the national temple 1 Who is it that dictates 
to you the way in which you shall be happy ] He who 
acts by your commission. Who is it that gives you im- 
perious laws 1 He who acts by your commission — the 
minister, who by your appointment is vested with the 
execution of the laws — of laws which we only have a 
right to make. Ours is an inviolable political priesthood. 
To us, twenty-five millions of people are looking to guard 
from further desecration the sacred ark of liberty, to re- 
lease them from the burdensome yoke which has so long 
crushed them, and to give them back their own inalien- 
able right to peace, liberty, and happiness. Gentlemen, 
the freedom of your deliberations is attempted to be de- 
stroyed. The iron chain of despotic prescription is laid 
upon you. A military force surrounds your assembly. 
Where are the enemies of France 1 Is Catiline at our 
gates ] Gentlemen ! I demand that, clothing yourselves 
in your dignity and your legislative authority, you remain 
firm in the sacredness of your oath, which does not per- 
mit us to separate till we have framed a constitution — 
till we have given a magna charta to France." 

The grand-master of ceremonies, seeing that the as- 
sembly did not separate, as directed, was about to inter- 
pose, by reminding them of the peremptory order of the 
king. But Mirabeau silenced his intrusion. ** Go," he 
exclaimed — "tell your master that we are here by the 
order of the people, and that we shall depart only at the 
point of the bayonet." 

" Gentlemen !" added Sieiies, calmly addressing him- 
self to the assembly, " we are to-day what we were yes- 
terday. Let us proceed with our deliberations." The 
assembly was immediately brought to order, and the bu- 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 187 

siness went forward as if no interruption had occurred. 
Its former acts and decrees were reaffirmed, and the 
persons of its members declared inviolable. 

The next day was an exciting one in the chamber of 
peers. Their grand stratagem had failed. The deputies 
of the people had not been overawed by the presence 
and command of the king. They had dared to proceed 
in open opposition to the will of the throne. To what 
would it come at last 1 Where would these lawless en- 
croachments end 1 In vain did Lafayette, and the few 
who had imbibed his liberal sentiments, point out the 
only true remedy for the evils they apprehended, the 
only refuge from the dangers which surrounded them. 
In vain did he set forth, with calm dispassioned eloquence, 
and a force of argument which it was impossible to an- 
swer, the rights of the people, and the duties of the gov- 
ernment. In vain did he urge them to go, as they were 
bound to do, and take their seats in the National Assem- 
bly, to take part, as they had a right to do, in the delib- 
erations of the people, and add the weight of their wis- 
dom, experience, and power, to the councils by which 
the future destinies of France were to be shaped and 
governed. They were obstinately bent on sustaining 
their one idea. They would not yield. an iota of their 
ancient claims and prerogatives. They refused to enter- 
tain the question of submission. 

Lafayette was not a man to be hoodwinked by the mere 
arbitrary dictum of a majority. He was as inaccessible to 
promises of personal advantage, on the one hand, as he 
was to the fear of power on the other. He could do what 
he knew to be right, alone, though he would have been 
glad to carry his associates with him. He accordingly 
withdrew from the useless contest with the peers, and, 
accompanied by the forty-seven who had shared his sen- 
, timents, and seconded his views, proceeded to the assem- 



188 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

bly, and signified his acceptance of their invitation to 
take part in their dehberations. The greater part of the 
clergy had ah'eady taken their seats there, and the pop- 
ular assembly now embraced more than two thirds of 
the deputies of the three estates. The majority of the 
nobles, and the minority of the clergy, with sullen but 
unavailing obstinacy, continued their separate sittings 
for several days, when certain alarming demonstrations 
of the popular will in Paris, and in some parts of the 
country, induced them suddenly to yield the contested 
point. On the 27th of June, the three orders were all 
united in one body, and the National Assembly of France 
was complete. 



THE REVOLUTION. 189 



CHAPTER XIV. 

PROGRESS OP THE REVOLUTION ORGANIZATION AND 

COMMAND OF THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 

The aristocracy had been compelled to bow to public 
opinion. But the king, influenced by the rash counsels 
of some of his ministers, and urged onward by his proud 
and beautiful queen, resolved on another effort to lay the 
spirit he had raised. He detennined by force to control 
the deliberations of the assembly, and to make it, as he 
had originally intended, the subservient instrument of his 
own will. Troops were gathered in from all quarters, 
and Versailles presented more the appearance of a camp 
than of a court. The hall of the states, like the head- 
quarters of a general, or rather like the jail where pris- 
oners-of-war are confined, was surrounded by sentinel- 
guards, and all access to it by the common people was 
carefully prohibited. Mercenary legions from neighbor- 
ing states were posted in all the avenues to Paris and 
Versailles, more than 50,000 of whom had been engaged 
to take the place of the French troops distrusted by the 
king. 

Excited to new phrensy by these menacing prepara- 
tions, the people began to show symptoms of that resist- 
ance to oppression which was never to be quelled but with 
the life-blood of the oppressor. In the assembly, there 
were similar indications of a spirit not easy to be sub- 
dued. On the motion of Mirabeau, seconded by Lafay- 



190 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ette, an address was sent to the king, requiring the with- 
drawal of the troops. The king, however, persisted in 
his policy of intimidation, and the guards were rather 
increased than diminished. He was as ignorant of the 
character of the men he had to deal with, as of the spirit 
of the times. They were superior to fear, and incapable 
of dissimulation. While the bayonets of the royal guards 
were bristling in every passage, and along all the avenues 
to the hall, Lafayette proposed for adoption the first decla- 
ration of rights that was ever heard in the old world. It 
breathed the spirit of universal freedom, and was worthy 
of the adopted son of America. It was condensed into 
the following brief and comprehensive form : — 

" Nature has made men free and equal. The distinc- 
tions necessary to social order are only founded on gen- 
eral utility. 

" Every man is bom with rights inalienable and im- 
prescriptable. Such are the liberty of his opinions, and 
the care of his honor and his life, the right of property, 
the uncontrolled disposal of his person, his industry, and 
all his faculties, the communication of all his thoughts 
by all possible means, the pursuit of happiness, and the 
resistance of oppression. 

" The exercise of natural rights has no limits but such 
as will insure their enjoyment to other members of so- 
ciety. 

" No man can be subject to any laws, excepting those 
which have received the assent of himself or his repre- 
sentatives, and which are promulgated beforehand and 
applied legally. 

" The principle of all sovereignty resides in the na- 
tion. No body, no individual, can possess authority, 
which does not expressly emanate from it. 

" Government has for its sole object the general wel- 
fare. This interest requires that the legislative, execu- 



THE REVOLUTION. 191 

live, and judicial powers, should be distinct and defined, 
and that their organization should secure the free repre- 
sentation of the citizens, the responsibility of the agents, 
and the impartiality of the judges. 

" The laws ought to be clear, precise, and uniforai for 
all citizens. 

** The subsidies ought to be freely consented to, and 
fairly imposed. 

" And, as the introduction of abuses, and the right of 
succeeding generations, make the revision of every hu- 
man establishment necessary, it must be allowed the na- 
tion to have, in certain cases, an extraordinary convoca- 
tion of deputies, whose sole object should be the ex- 
amination and correction, if necessary, of the vices of 
the constitution." 

Thus it was, that the same noble spirit, from which 
emanated the first demand for a National Assembly, 
came forward in the midst of that assembly with a char- 
ter for the people. It was immediately and warmly 
seconded by Lally Tolendal, who, with no less justice 
than enthusiasm, accompanied his motion with the dec- 
laration, that " all the principles contained in this bill of 
rights are the sacred emanations of truth ; all the senti- 
ments are noble and sublime ; and the author of it now 
displays as much eloquence in speaking of liberty, as he 
has always shown courage in defending it. 

When, at the close of the American war, Lafayette 
returned to his family, he furnished a house in Paris. 
Upon one of the walls he suspended, in a handsome 
frame, a copy of the Declaration of Independence, leav- 
ing the corresj)onding space, on the opposite side, vacant. 
" What do you design to place here V asked one of his 
friends. " The Declaration of Rights for France," was 
the ready reply. Eight years that room remained un- 
furnished, no other human work being considered wor- 



192 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

thy to occupy the vacant panel ; now, it is appropriately 
filled. The counterpart to the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence is there, and Lafayette hopes for his beloved 
France all that he aided to achieve for America. 

The Declaration of Rights v^as adopted on the 11th of 
July. It v^^as immediately follow^ed by the dismissal and 
banishment of the faithful and efficient Necker, which 
caused a fearful outbreak of popular fury in Paris ; where- 
upon Lafayette brought forward, and the assembly in- 
stantly passed, a decree, declaring that the king's ministers 
and advisers, of whatever rank or state, should be held 
responsible for the acts of the government ; and then, ap- 
prehending, from the signs about them, that they should 
be forcibly excluded from their hall, the assembly passed 
another decree, declaring their session permanent and 
indissoluble. To relieve the venerable president, the 
archbishop of Vienne, of a portion of his too arduous 
duties, Lafayette was chosen vice-president of the as- 
sembly, and presided over its deliberations during^lie 
night. For two successive nights, while a terrible con- 
flict was raging in the city, between an outraged pop- 
ulace and the mercenary troops of the crown, they did 
not leave their seats, lest they should be prevented from 
resuming them in the morning. 

The people triumphed. The Bastile was demolished. 
The king, suddenly awaked from his mad security, saw 
that he had gone too far, and began to retrace his steps. 
Without a guard or an escort, accompanied by his two 
brothers, he presented himself before the assembly, to 
give, at the same time, his personal acknowledgment of 
their rights, as a National Assembly, and his personal 
assurance that his orders had already gone forth for the 
removal of the troops. "I am," said he, "one of the 
nation. You have been afraid of me ; but I now put 
my trust in you." Having, at the same time, promised 



THE REVOLUTION. 193 

to recall Neckar, and restore him to the head of the 
cabinet, and to proceed in person, the next day, to 
Paris, with a view to appease the tumult and conciliate 
the people, he was greeted on all sides with the most 
rapturous enthusiasm. The members, without distinc- 
tion of rank or party, rose from their seats, and escorted 
the monarch on foot to his palace. 

The destruction of the Bastile was no ordinary event. 
It was, to outward appearance, an irregular, violent erup- 
tion of popular indignation, roused to unusual phrensy, in 
the righteous cause of resistance to organized oppression. 
It was not, however, the movement of a mob, or a fac- 
tion, but of the whole people, the natural sovereigns, in 
whom all power originates, and to whom it necessarily 
reverts, when abused by those to whom it is delegated. 
This gigantic fortress, which for ages had reared its 
gloomy head amid the dwellings of Paris, frowning ven- 
geance upon all who dared to breathe opposition to the 
will of the king, had been a terrible engine of tyrannical 
power. In its deep, dark dungeons, as hopeless of re- 
tura as the grave, thousands of helpless, innocent victims 
had wasted away, under the slow-consuming tortures of 
suspense, without a trial, without an examination, and 
often without a knowledge of the offence they had 
committed. With its moats and ditches of impassable 
breadth, its towers and ramparts of inaccessible height, 
and its massive, impenetrable walls, it had ever been 
deemed impregnable to any human power. It had, in 
a foiTQer day, for more than three weeks, successfully 
withstood the skill, entei-prise, and resolution, of the 
great Conde, with a well-appointed army at his feet. 
Now, that mighty, irresistible power — that power 
which may almost, without irreverence, be called om- 
nipotent — a determined, united people, stands before it. 
An unorganized, undisciplined multitude, without an 
17 



194 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

acknowledged leader, demands its destruction. And it 
falls ; in less than four hours it falls, never to rise again. 
Its destruction was one of those solemn acts in the great 
drama of human government, which Lafayette contem- 
plated, when he uttered the memorable maxim, " When 
oppression renders a revolution necessary, insurrection 
BECOMES THE HOLIEST OF DUTIES." The key of this 
gloomy prison was presented to Lafayette, as the em- 
bodiment and representative of freedom in Europe. By 
him it was sent to Washington, with a sketch of the 
ruins of " that fortress of despotism." — " It is a tribute," 
to use the language of his own letter, " which I owe, as 
a son, to my adoptive father — as an aide-de-camp, to my 
general — as a missionary of liberty, to its patriarch." 
It is now carefully preserved, in a glass case, in the hall 
of the Washington mansion at Mount Vernon. The 
first stone that was removed from its walls was also pre- 
sented to Lafayette by the person who contracted to 
take it down ; and not many weeks after, while conduct- 
ing General Paoli over its desolate ruins, he received, 
from the same hand, the last stone from its dismal sub- 
terranean dungeons. 

On the return of the deputies to the hall, it was 
proposed that a large deputation of members should 
be appointed, to proceed immediately to Paris, and an- 
nounce the auspicious turn of affairs, and the promise 
of the king to visit the capital. Lafayette was at the 
head of this deputation. On arriving at Paris, they 
found the municipality of the city assembled at the 
Hotel de Ville, surrounded by an immense and excited 
multitude of the people. On announcing the object of 
their visit, they were received with the liveliest demon- 
strations of joy. Bailly, one of their number, was in- 
stantly, and by acclamation, declared mayor of Paris, in 
the place of Flesseles, who, with De Launy, command- 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 195 

ant of the Bastile, bad fallen a victim to the popular fury 
in the insurrection. 

A new institution, destined to have great influence on 
the cuiTent of events, was about to be organized in Paris. 
Hitherto, the military force of the nation was wholly at 
the disposal of the crown. The army was the right aiTa 
of the king, not less for the oppression of his subjects, 
than for resisting or chastising the enemies of the coun- 
try. Now, a National G-uard, an army, not of mere 
mercenaries, but of citizen-soldiers, was to be organized. 
It was the right arm of the people, for the protection of 
their rights, not less from oppression at home, than from 
foreign aggression. The constitution and discipline of 
this body in the capital, was one of the subjects of delib- 
eration before the municipality of Paris, when the depu- 
tation from the National Assembly arrived. The ques- 
tion at length arose, to whom shall we intrust the com- 
mand of the National Guards ? A momentary pause 
ensued — a pause of deep and anxious thought. Moreau 
de St. Mery, one of the electors, rose in his place, and, 
without uttering a word, pointed to a beautiful marble 
bust, which adorned one of the niches of the hall. It 
w^as the bust of Lafayette, which a few years before had 
been presented by the state of Virginia to the city of 
Paris. The effect was perfectly electric. The motion 
was seconded by acclamation. " Yes ! yes !" was shout- 
ed from every side — "The very man we want — the 
only man we desire." 

This appointment was received and confirmed, with 
the deepest enthusiasm, by the citizen-soldiers of Paris. 
At the head of that body, nearly two hundred thousand 
in number, Lafayette met the king at Sevres, on the 17th 
of July, and escorted him in triumph to the city. It was 
a scene without a parallel in the annals of the splendid 
court of France. Hastily drawn together fi'om all the 



196 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

varied walks of common life, the royal escort presented 
as motley an appearance as the militia of New England 
at a general muster — citizen's dresses, of every style 
and hue, and, for arms, muskets, pikes, lances, broad- 
swords, scythes, and staves, so unlike the gay caparison, 
the gorgeous equipment, the glittering armor, of the 
royal host on a gala-day excursion. Through the ser- 
ried lines of this mighty host, the king passed up the 
crowded street, and entered the Hotel de Ville, under 
an arch of swords crossed over his head. It was a day 
of rejoicing and triumph to the people, and a day of dis- 
may to the ill-fated advisers of the king. Some of the 
latter left the kingdom at once, preferring voluntary ex- 
ile to banishment or death. They were soon followed 
by large numbers of the aristocracy, who prudently 
withdrew from a conflict which they could neither con- 
trol nor withstand. The number of exiles was very 
great ; and they were known, in the various countries 
of Europe, by the common name of emigrants, or French 
refugees. 

The presence of the king under such an escort, and 
the liberal promises he made to the people, restored 
quiet to the capital, and established new relations of 
confidence between Louis and his subjects. With per- 
fect grace and apparent good will, the king gave his 
royal sanction to the appointment of Lafayette as com- 
mander-in-chief of the National Guards, and authorized 
him to incorporate into that body the old French Guards, 
who were all pledged to the cause of the people. This 
was a delicate and difficult task, requiring all the firm- 
ness, tact, and moderation, of Lafayette. Tenacious of 
distinctions to which they had so long been accustomed, 
and which they had been trained to believe essential to a 
sound military organization, the French Guards showed 
the greatest reluctance to being merged a>nd lost in the 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 197 

undistinguished mass of citizen-soldiers. But Lafayette 
was not to be thwarted by ordinary difficulties. To per- 
suasion and reason, he added an argument too powerful 
and palpable to be resisted. As he had done on a pres- 
sing occasion in America, he bon'owed money, on his 
own responsibility, to make up their arrears of pay, 
to the amount of two hundred and forty thousand dol- 
lars. This had the desired effect. The several battal- 
ions of the French Guards were quietly dissolved, and 
the men who composed them were drawn, on a foot- 
ing of common equality, into the ranks of the National 
Guards. 

The distinctive badge of this body was the tri-colored 
cockade, devised by Lafayette, in which the blue and 
red of the city-arms were blended with the white of the 
royal standard. In announcing to the assembly its adop- 
tion by the Guards, Lafayette made the following brief 
but emphatic speech : " Gentlemen, I bring you a cock- 
ade which shall make the tour of the world ; and an in- 
stitution, at once civic and military, which shall change 
the system of European tactics, and reduce all absolute 
governments to the alternative of being beaten, if they 
do not imitate it, or overthrown, if they dare to oppos"^ 
it." This cockade Lafayette presented to the king at 
the Hotel de Ville, who immediately placed it in his hat, 
and showed himself to the people. Loud and long-con- 
tinued shouts of Vive le Roi ! resounding from one ex- 
tremity of the city to the other, rewarded this simple act 
of conciliation. 

The organization of the National Guard was not con- 
fined to Paris. It extended into all the cities and towns 
of France. As if by a common impulse of confidence 
and respect, Lafayette was looked to as the supreme 
commander of the whole. Solicitations to this effect 
were pressed upon him from every quarter. A specific 

17* 



198 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

motion was made to invest him with the powers of a 
dictator. The ministers also proposed to him to accept 
the staff of marshal of France. But, so little was he 
ambitious of personal distinction, where the public good 
was concerned, that he not only refused all these offers, 
modestly declaring that he could only think of his own 
concerns, when he ceased to be useful to his country, 
but introduced into the assembly a special order, inca- 
pacitating any individual from being at the head of more 
than one department at the same time. His speech on 
that occasion was thus characterized by one who heard 
it : " He spoke without any hesitation. He did not re- 
ject the proposal with the feeble accent with which 
Caesar refused the diadem that Anthony offered on his 
knee, but reproved, with a virtuous indignation, and a 
voice that inspired confidence, the improper motion, and 
the intemperate zeal of the person who proposed it."* 
He knew well that it was too much power to be safely 
intrusted to one man. The history of the world shows 
us many Caesars and Napoleons, but few Washingtons 
and Lafayettes. 

At the same time that he refused to accept of tliese 
extended powers, he was offered another command which 
he could not refuse. The interest which he had taken 
in negro emancipation, and his efforts to elevate the Af- 
rican race, had drawn toward him the confidence and 
regards of the free people of color ; and when, in the 
month of October, they sent a deputation from their 
number, to assert in the assembly their rights as citizens, 
they waited on General Lafayette, with an earnest re- 
quest that he would assume the command of a battalion 
of National Guards, which, in imitation of their white 

* It is a curious fact, thougli not so singular as, at first sight, it appears, 
that the abbe Fauchet, the author of this rejected motion, was one of those 
who, at a later period, accused Lafayette of ambition and Cromwellism. 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 199 

fellow-citizens, they had organized among themselves, 
for the maintenance of order, and the defence of the 
constitution. This post, as honorable to the receiver as 
it was creditable to them who sought to confer it, was 
immediately accepted. 

Scenes of violence are almost necessarily incident to 
a revolution. While human nature remains what it is, 
there will always be found large numbers of men, so 
entirely the slaves of passion, as to seize upon every op- 
portunity to overstep the restraints of law and justice, 
and, under the specious pretence of setting things right, 
to commit the most extravagant excesses. It was so in 
Paris at this epoch. When the people had actually ta- 
ken arms into their hands, and risen in open rebellion 
against the government, they became inflamed to such 
intensity of fury, as to be blinded at once to the real 
objects of the revolution. Instead of destroying oppres- 
sion, they satisfied themselves with wreaking instant ven- 
geance on the oppressors. This they did in the most 
summary manner, without trial, without even the form 
of an accusation. De Launy, commandant of the Bas- 
tile, and Flesseles, mayor of Paris, had been sacrificed 
to popular indignation, in the first insurrection, on the 
14th of July. On the arrival of the king in Paris, a few 
days after, and the dispersion of the old ministry, there 
was a fearful outbreak of popular fury, which threatened 
to defeat the best hopes of the nation. The efforts and 
achievements of Lafayette, on that day, were truly as- 
tonishing. More than twenty persons were rescued fi'om 
the hands of the mob, by his courage, prudence, and 
decision. Among them was the abbe Cordier, whom 
they were on the point of hanging to a lamp-post, in 
front of the Hotel de Ville. While standing by his side, 
endeavoring to turn away from him the hands of the 
infuriated multitude, the general's son, then a mere child. 



200 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

was presented to him by his tutor. With gi'eat presence 
of mind, taking advantage of this unexpected incident, 
he raised the boy in his arms, and, turning to the crowd, 
said, " Gentlemen, I have the honor of presenting to 
you my son." Diverted, momentarily, from their object, 
they made the welkin ring with acclamations for the in- 
fant hero, whom they loved to honor for his father's sake ; 
and when the discordant cry, " A has V ahhe /" was re- 
newed, the abbe was not to be found. That brief lull 
in the popular tempest had been improved by the ready 
tact of Lafayette, to remove him to a place of security 
within the hall. Even females were exposed to similar 
violence ; and Madame de Fontenay, a beautiful and ac- 
complished lady, of a most estimable character, owed 
her life that day to the firmness, intrepidity, and popu- 
larity of the commander of the National Guards. 

M. Foulon, one of the members most obnoxious for 
his insatiable rapacity and extortion while in office, was 
immediately brought to trial. He was accompanied into 
the very presence of the court by an infuriated mob, who 
clamored for instant revenge. Several of the members 
offered, in vain, to deliver themselves up as hostages, and 
be personally responsible for M. Foulon ; and when all 
means of restraining the impatience and fury of the mul- 
titude had failed, loud shouts and acclamations announced 
the arrival of Lafayette. On his entrance, he placed 
himself by the side of the president, and the late tumult 
was succeeded by the most profound silence. He im- 
mediately addressed the multitude, and it would be diffi- 
cult to describe the power of his discourse, mingled as 
it was with consummate skill, and the most simple and 
energetic traits of eloquence. " I am known to you all," 
said he. " You have appointed me your commander — 
a station which, while it confers honor, imposes upon me 
the duty of speaking to you with that liberty and can- 



l^E NATIONAL GUARDS. 201 

dor which form the basis of my character. You wish^ 
without a trial, to put to death the man who is before 
you. Such an act of injustice would dishonor you; it 
would disgrace me. And, were I weak enough to per- 
mit it, it would blast all the efforts which I have made 
in favor of liberty. I will not permit it. But I am far 
from pretending to save him if he be guilty. I only de- 
sire that the orders of the assembly should be carried 
into execution, and that this man be conducted to prison, 
to be judged by a legal tribunal. I wish the law to be 
respected ; law, without which there can be no liberty ; 
law, without whose aid I would never have contributed 
to the revolution of the new world, and without which I 
will not contribute to the revolution which is preparing 
here. I, therefore, command that he be conducted to 
the prison of L'Abbaye St. Germain." 

His discourse made a great and favorable impression 
on such as were within the hearing of his voice ; and 
they assented to his being conducted to prison. But its 
influence did not extend to the multitudes in the extremity 
of the hall. Foulon clapped his hands at the proposal 
of imprisonment, upon which the populace cried out — 
" They are conniving at his guilt ; they wish to save him." 
Foulon attempted to speak. The following words only 
could be distinguished : " Respectable assembly ! Just 
and generous people ! - — I am in the midst of my fellow- 
citizens — I fear nothing." At these words the phrensy 
of the people was redoubled. An individual cried out, 
** Why should you judge a man who has been condemned 
for thirty years V 

Three different times Lafayette harangued the people, 
and each time his discourse produced a favorable effect. 
It is impossible now to know what the result would have 
been, if the mob had not received a new accession from 
without of numbers who had not listened to this just and 



202 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

noble appeal. It was scarcely concluded, when shouts 
more terrible than had yet been heard, arose from the 
square of the Hotel de Ville. At the same moment, a 
number of voices from the extremity of the hall, ex- 
claimed, that the populace from the palais-royal, and the 
faubourg St. Antoine, had arrived to carry off the pris- 
oner. The most horrible cries now resounded in all di- 
rections. A fresh mob pressed against that which already 
filled the hall. The whole mass moved together, and 
rushed impetuously toward the chair in which Foulon 
was seated, without regarding the intercessions of Lafay- 
ette, who continued, in a loud voice, to order him to be 
conducted to prison. But the miserable man was already 
in the hands of the populace. A few minutes after, it 
was announced that the mob had hung him to a lamp- 
iron in front of the Hotel de Ville. 

The indignation and sorrow of the general were ex- 
treme, at the commission of acts which sullied the first 
moments of his command. Filled with horror and dis- 
gust, and exasperated by this contempt of all authority, he 
determined at once to resign his office of commander-in- 
chief; and this determination he immediately conveyed, 
in the following letter, to the mayor of the city: — 

" Sir : Summoned by the confidence of its citizens to 
the military command of the capital, I have uniformly 
declared, that in the actual state of affairs, it was neces- 
sary, to be useful, that confidence should be full and 
universal. I have steadily declared to the people, that, 
although devoted to their interest to my last breath, yet 
I was incapable of purchasing their favor by unjustly 
yielding to their wishes. You are aware, sir, that one 
of the individuals who perished yesterday was placed 
under a guard, and that the other was under the escort 
of our troops, both being sentenced by the civil power 
to undergo a regular trial. Such were the proper means 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 203 

to satisfy justice, to discover their accomplices, and to 
fulfil the solemn engagements of every citizen toward 
the national assembly and the king. 

" The people w^ould not hearken to my advice ; and 
the moment when the confidence which they promised, 
and reposed in me, is lost, it becomes my duty, as I have 
before stated, to abandon a post in which I can be no 
longer useful. lam with respect, &c. Lafayette." 

The greatest consternation prevailed on the announce- 
ment of this resolution. The municipal council earnestly 
solicited its recall. The National Assembly added an 
urgent request to the same effect, declaring that the 
safety of the city depended on his retaining the com- 
mand which had been assigned him. The National 
Guards assembled after twelve o'clock. Twenty-three 
battalions repaired at once to Lafayette's house. Till 
nine, P. M., they continued to muster there, with their 
arms and banners, till the number of battalions amounted 
to forty-two. In the most urgent manner, and with the 
most touching expressions of affection and devotion, 
Lafayette was entreated to withdraw his resignation. A 
gi'eat number of the National Guards then proceeded 
to the municipality, and requested that body to unite 
with them in their solicitations. The municipal council, 
with Bailly at its head, proceeded to the general's house, 
at eleven o'clock. The apartments, the court, and a part 
of the street, were filled with the National Guards. 
The conference was long, earnest, but unsuccessful 
The municipality retired at midnight, without having 
received a definite answer. The next day Lafayette 
appeared in the hall of the municipality, and thus declared 
his sentiments and his decision : — 

" Gentlemen, I come to acknowledge the last testi- 
monies of your kindness, with all the warmth of a heait 
whose first desire, after that of serving the people, is to 



204 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

be loved by tbem, and to express my astonishment at 
the importance they deign to attach to an individual, in 
a free country, vv^here nothing should be of real impor- 
tance except law. If my conduct, on this occasion, 
could be regulated by my sentiments of gratitude and 
affection, I should only reply to the regrets with which 
you and the National Guards had honored me, by yield- 
ing obedience to your entreaties ; but, as I was guided 
by no feeling of private interest when I formed that res- 
olution, so also, in the midst of the various causes for 
agitation that surround us, I can not allow myself to be 
governed by my private affections. . . . 

" Gentlemen, when I received such touching proofs 
of affection, too much was done for me, and too little 
for the law. I am convinced how well my comrades love 
me ; I am still ignorant to what degree they cherish the 
principles on which liberty is founded. Deign to make 
known to the National Guards this sincere avowal of 
my sentiments. To command them, it is necessary that 
I should feel certain that they unanimously believe that 
the fate of the constitution is suspended upon the execu- 
tion of law, the only sovereign of a free people — that 
individual liberty, the security of each man's home, re- 
ligious liberty, and respect for legitimate authority, are 
duties as sacred to them as to myself. We require not 
only courage and vigilance, but unanimity in these prin- 
ciples ; and I thought, and still think, that the constitu- 
tion will be better served by my resignation, on the 
grounds I have given, than by my acquiescence in the 
request with which you have deigned to honor me." 

On receiving this decision, the sixty battalions of the 
National Guards immediately passed the following reso- 
lution : " The National Assembly has decreed that pub- 
lic force should be obedient, and a portion of the Parisi- 
an army has shown itself essentially disobedient. Gen- 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 205 

eral Lafayette has only ceased to command that army, 
because they have ceased to pbey law. He requires a 
complete submission to the law, not a servile attachment 
to his person. Let the battalions assemble. Let each 
citizen-soldier swear on his word and honor to obey the 
law. Let those who refuse be excluded from the Na- 
tional Guard. Let the wish of the army, thus regenera- 
ted, be carried to General Lafayette, and he will con- 
ceive it his duty to resume the command." 

This resolution was immediately carried into effect. 
The speeches made on the occasion were as adrpirable 
as the scene was affecting and important. It was a 
spectacle of high moral sublimity, that of a mighty araiy, 
after breaking over the wholesome restraints of disci- 
pline, and giving vent to evil passions in acts of lawless 
violence, returning to their general, whom their disobe- 
dience had comj)elled to resign all authority, acknowl- 
edging their fault, and, with earnest protestations of fu- 
ture good conduct, entreating him to resume the com- 
mand, and restore order and peace to the capital. 

Lafayette still hesitated, but finally yielded to the uni- 
versal wish. The season of suspense, during which he 
was weighing the conflicting claims of duty and inclina- 
tion, was a season of unusual order and quiet. One 
great object filled the minds of the people. They 
thought only of conciliating Lafayette, and refrained 
from everything that might have a tendency to confirm 
his resolution to retire. And when, at length, his con- 
sent to return was announced, it was received with the 
loudest demonstrations of enthusiasm, gi'atitude, and joy. 

With a generous devotion to his country, which has 
few parallels in history, Lafayette declined all compen- 
sation for his services as commander-in-chief of the Na- 
tional Guards. He did not even accept a reimbursement 
of his personal expenses, in the discharge of his duties. 
18 



206 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

When It was urged upon him, as an act of justice to 
himself and family, by the municipality of Paris, he re- 
plied : " My private fortune secures me from want. It 
has outlasted two revolutions ; and should it survive a 
third, through the complaisance of the people, it shall 
belong to them alone." 

Bailly, as mayor of Paris, and Lafayette, as command- 
ant of the civic militia, had *' a sea of troubles" to en- 
counter in the discharge of their official duties. While 
they were both as just and honorable as they were firm 
and fearless, they had to deal with the most wild, un- 
principled, and savage mob, that ever haunted the pur- 
lieus of a civilized community. The populace of Paris, 
like a ravening tiger after having tasted blood, was mad- 
dened by the first draught of promised liberty, and 
with demoniac fury insisted upon draining the cup to its 
dregs. Regardless of consequences, and rushing hither 
and thither, under the passionate impulses of the mo- 
ment, they looked upon moderation as an unjust restraint 
upon their hopes, and upon forms of law as little better 
than the old slavery under which they had so long 
groaned. The management of these barbarian hordes, 
the curbing of this hundred-headed dragon, was truly an 
herculean task. And he, who, through two consecu- 
tive years of wild revolution, succeeded in restraining 
its fury, and maintaining anything like a fair show of 
public order, is entitled to the highest rewards of pru- 
dence, firmness, and invincible courage. 

The preservation of public tranquillity, during this 
stormy season, demanded and received a large portion 
of the attention of the National Assembly. On the 10th 
of August, a decree was passed, making the several 
municipalities responsible for their own departments. 
To this end, the national militia and the regular troops 
were placed at the disposal of the municipalities, having 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 207 

first taken " the civic oath," which bound them to be 
faithful to the nation, the king, and the law. The com- 
mand of Lafayette was thus made subservient to the 
magistracy of Bailly. 

On the 19th of October, Bailly and Lafayette received 
from the assembly a vote of thanks, " for their extensive 
labors and indefatigable vigilance," in the discharge of 
their arduous duties, as conservators of public order. It 
was passed by acclamation. Mirabeau, in an eloquent 
and impassioned speech, on the occasion, thus depicted 
the peculiar difficulties of their position, and the extra- 
ordinary character of the crisis which public affairs had 
reached : — 

" Prudence does not allow me to unveil all the deli- 
cate circumstances, all the perilous hazards, all the per- 
sonal dangers, all the threats, all the painful duties 
attending their position, in a city of seven hundred 
thousand inhabitants, kept in a state of continual fermen- 
tation, after a revolution that has broken all former rela- 
tions, in a time of teiTor and confusion, when invisible 
hands had destroyed abundance, and defeated secretly 
all the efforts of the chiefs to feed this enormous popula- 
tion, obliged to conquer by their patience, the piece of 
bread they had already gained by their sweat. 

" What a, period ! when it is necessary to fear and to 
brave all things ; when tumult begets tumult ; when riots 
are produced by the very measures taken to prevent 
them ; when moderation is incessantly requisite, while 
yet moderation appears equivocal, timid, pusillanimous ; 
when it is necessary to employ much force, while yet 
force appears tyrannical ; when one is besieged by a 
thousand counsels, and obliged to take counsel of oneself; 
when one is compelled to dread even citizens whose in- 
tentions are pure, but whom distrust, anxiety, and exag- 
geration, render as dangerous as if they were conspira- 



208 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

tors ; when one is reduced, even in difficult situations, 
to yield from prudence, to take the lead in disorder in 
order to restrain it ; and when it is necessary, in the 
midst of all these extreme difficulties, to exhibit a serene 
countenance, to be always calm and collected, to bring 
into order the most trifling things, to offend no person, 
to efface all jealousies, to labor incessantly, and to en- 
deavor to please as if there were no labor in the case." 

In the memoirs of Mirabeau there is a remarkable 
note, which was found among his papers, commencing 
thus : " There is one man in the state, who, from his 
position, is exposed to the hazards of all events ; to whom 
successes can offer no compensation for reverses ; and 
who is, in some manner, answerable for the repose, we 
may even say the safety, of the public — and that man is 
Lafayette." He then proceeds to specify the incredible 
difficulties under which the general labored in the dis- 
charge of his mighty trust, and points out the means by 
which he should be sustained, the most important of 
which, the confidence and co-operation of the king and 
his ministers, was constantly withheld from him. 

To render the service of the National G-uards more effi- 
cient, Lafayette caused to be draughted out of the whole 
body, two companies, one of grenadiers and one of chas- 
seurs, who bound themselves by a special oath, " to make 
every personal sacrifice for the space of four months, 
and to be on foot every day, at all hours, if the public 
safety should require it." " My own head," said he to 
the officers, " is of little value, but I swear to defend the 
French constitution, for which we are now laboring, and 
I shall attach more importance to that oath than to my 
life." 

The names of more than four hundred citizens were 
inscribed on the rolls of these companies. Their com- 
mander, with a large deputation, waited upon Lafayette 



THE NATIONAL GUARDS. 209 

with a patriotic and affectionate address, which closed 
with this solemn protestation : "We swear to you to per- 
form our service with exactness, not to take advantage 
of the provisional order, that allows forty-seven days for 
one day of actual sei*vice, only to lay down our arms 
when you command us to do so, and tell us that the 
great work of our liberty is completely achieved." So 
strong was the attachment of the soldiers to their chief, 
that many of them felt and resented, as a personal in- 
sult, any disrespectful allusion to him. This gave rise 
to some acts of violence, to prevent a repetition of which 
Lafayette issued an order, expressing his deep regi'et for 
those acts, and declaring that he acknowledged none as 
his friends, who were not also, always and everywhere, 
friends of liberty and order 

18* 



210 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XV. 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 



The " declaration of rights," proposed by Lafayette, 
was still under discussion in the assembly, its progress 
having been interrupted by the turbulent disorders of the 
times, and by the imperious urgency of other measures. 
The debates on this and kindred topics, terminating, at 
length, in the adoption of the constitution, were anima- 
ted and stormy. The people, as well as the representa- 
tives, were divided in opinion, or rather in feeling, upon 
every question as it arose. If they did not comprehend 
many of these, it did not lessen the zeal with which they 
discussed them. The royal veto, the only remnant of 
real power which the constitution proposed to leave to 
the king, beyond the mere execution of the laws, became 
now the subject of more alarm and excitement than had 
formerly been caused by the exercise of all the tre- 
mendous prerogatives of the crown. Notwithstanding 
the vehement declamations of the populace on this sub- 
ject, it was so little understood by multitudes, that many 
thought the veto was some secret tax, which ought to be 
abolished, while others believed it to be one of their 
aristocratic oppressors, and demanded that he should be 
seized and hung up to a lamp-post. 

Deceived, excited, and lashed into fury by the daily 
and nightly harangues of a class of factious demagogues, 
who made their rendezvous at the palais-royal, the igno- 
rant rabble were alwa^ s ready to break out into the most 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 211 

ati'ocious excesses of violence. It was repeatedly pro- 
posed that tliey should march in a body to Versailles, 
and compel the king and the assembly to come to such 
terms as they should dictate. It was only by incessant 
watchfulness, and the firm exercise of his high military 
authority, that Lafayette could keep them in subjection. 
Martial law was not proclaimed, but the city was de facto 
and necessarily under it. The restraint was felt to be 
galling. The National Guards were looked upon with 
suspicion, and charged with aristocracy. Lafayette was 
sneeringly called the Cromwell of France. 

On the 30th of August, an intense excitement was cre- 
ated by the rumor, fabricated on the spot by their lead- 
ers, that the life or liberty of Mirabeau was in danger, 
and a motion was instantly made to proceed en masse to 
Versailles, to rescue him, and at the same time to com- 
pel the king and his family to return to Paris. Gather- 
ing strength at every step, as it moved wildly along, an 
almost countless throng was soon on its way to Ver- 
sailles, when Lafayette, informed of the movement, threw 
himself in their path, and compelled them, reluctantly, 
but without open collision, to retrace their steps. Their 
main purpose, however, of bringing the king and the 
assembly to Paris, was not abandoned. It was resumed 
and agitated daily, and cries of, " The king to Paris !" 
were heard from every quarter. 

The court, on the other hand, was plotting to cany 
the king to Metz, where, intrenched in a strong fortress, 
he might bid defiance to the people. Lafayette, who 
had eyes and ears for everything affecting the public 
weal, was aware of this plot, and revealed it to the count 
d'Estaing, who was then commandant of the National 
Guards at Versailles. The count immediately addressed 
a letter to the queen, unfolding the whole plan, and thus 
defeated it before it was fully matured. 



21^ LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

The scarcity of food in Paris, at this juncture, was 
appalling, and tended to hasten affairs to a crisis. The 
poor were clamorous for relief, attributing their physical 
sufferings, as well as their political gi'ievances, to the king. 
To guard against sudden ebullitions of violence from 
this quarter, Lafayette had posted a considerable force 
at Sevres, midway between Paris and Versailles, while 
the king had reinforced the life-guard about his person. 

On the second of October, the life-guards gave an en- 
tertainment to the officers of the garrison. It was a costly 
and luxurious banquet, and the king and queen were in- 
duced to be present. They were received with the great- 
est enthusiasm, and escorted in triumph to their apart- 
ments. This greatly increased the prevailing dissatis- 
faction. The feasting at Versailles seemed a heartless 
mockery of the prevalent distress in Paris. Murmurs 
of discontent swelled into an angry storm. The popu- 
lace, suffering from hunger, and the apprehension of 
greater evils yet to come, was in fearful commotion. 
Paris resembled the heaving, boiling abyss of some 
mighty volcano, on the eve of an eruption. 

The 5th of October brought in a new element, to in- 
crease the wild commotion. The cries for " bread !" 
had begun to drown the cries of the political factions. 
Women, made frantic by their own wants, and those of 
their famishing children, rushed in large numbers to the 
Hotel de Ville, to tell their wants to the municipality. 
The session had not commenced, and the place was 
guarded by a battalion of the National Guards. Refu- 
sing the assistance of a company of men, who had now 
assembled, the women rushed upon the battalion, arid 
drove it back by a volley of stones. Then, forcing open 
one of the doors, they rushed in, and making their way, 
unresisted, to the great bell, sounded the tocsin. The 
whole city was instantly in an uproar. Arming them- 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 213 

selves with bludgeons, broomsticks, muskets, cutlasses, 
and every species of available weapon, these frantic 
amazonsnow commenced their march toward Versailles, 
their numbers swelling, and their phrensy rising higher 
and higher, at each step of their progress. On their de- 
parture, the space around the Hotel de Ville was imme- 
diately filled up with another throng, equally numerous 
and tumultuous, whose presence and loud vociferations 
prevented the departure of their comrades from being 
observed at once by Lafayette, or reported to him by his 
patroles. Arrived at the Champs Elysees, they were 
addressed by a citizen, named Maillard, who, for the 
purpose of gaining an influence over them, had favored 
their movement, and promised to lead them to the Na- 
tional Assembly. Representing to them that it would be 
better to appear before that body as petitioners, than as 
furies with weapons of death in their hands, he persuaded 
them to lay aside their arms, and tiiist only to the strength 
of tkeir cause. 

Pressing forward with all the energy of fury, they 
soon reached the hall of the assembly. It was in the 
midst of a most exciting discussion. Rushing in, with- 
out the ceremony of an introduction, they at once pre- 
sented their grievances, and demanded instant relief. 
Put off with unsatisfactory promises, they resolved to go 
to the king. The president of the assembly was just 
about to go to the palace, for a conference with Louis. 
The women insisted on accompanying him, and he was 
oblieed to consent that twelve of their number should 
go with him. The king received them graciously, de- 
plored their distress, and promised them all the relief in 
his power. Softened by this interview with royalty, 
they returaed to their companions with a favorable re- 
port, which so exasperated the multitude, that they were 
with difficulty restrained from tearing them in pieces. 



214 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

An altercation with the guards ensued, in which some 
blood was shed. 

About midnight, Lafayette arrived from Paris. He 
had been all day opposing arguments, persuasions, en- 
treaties, and commands, to the settled purpose of the 
National Guards to proceed to Versailles, and bring 
back the king. " General," said one of his grenadiers 
to him, " you do not deceive us, but you deceive your- 
self. Instead of turning our arms against women, let 
us go to Versailles to fetch the king, and make sure of 
his good dispositions, by placing him in the midst of us." 
A definite proposal was also made, at the same time, that 
the king should be deposed, Louis XVII. proclaimed, 
and Lafayette appointed regent. But he would not lis- 
ten to it for a moment. He was unchangeably true to 
the king. He had said in the very commencement of 
the revolution, " If the king rejects the constitution, I 
will oppose him, and if he accepts it I will defend him." 
In this he never faltered. % 

He withstood the earnest solicitations of his army, as 
well as the turbulent vociferations of the mob. From 
principle, and a high sense of duty to the constitution, 
he was utterly opposed to putting any restraint upon the 
person of the king. He knew that his soldiers were at- 
tached to him and respected him. But he had not that 
unlimited control, that unquestioned sway over their 
minds, which might have been acquired by leading them 
to victory. They resolved to go without him, if he 
would not lead them. The municipality directed him to 
go, and he was compelled to yield. During this day of 
agitations, his life had been several times threatened; 
the fatal lantern had been several times made ready 
for him, by the furies of that day, and more than twenty 
maniac muskets had been levelled at his head; but this 
did not alarm him. He went in obedience to orders, 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 215 

which he was bound to respect. Halting by the way, 
he addressed the army, with his usual tact, and obtained 
from them a renewal of their oath of fidelity to the king 
and the nation. 

• On the moment of his arrival, he sent word to Mou- 
nier, president of the assembly, that the army had prom- 
ised to do its duty, and that nothing would be attempted 
by them contrary to the law. He then hastened to the 
palace. Accompanied by only two commissaries, he 
presented himself before the gate of the court, which 
was filled with Swiss guards. The gate was locked and 
barred, and entrance was refused. After some parley, 
however, he was admitted. As he passed along the court, 
one of the guards exclaimed, " There goes Cromwell." 
** Sir," replied Lafayette, with dignity, " Cromwell would 
not have entered here alone." With every demonstra- 
tion of respect and sorrow, he informed the king of the 
precautions which had been taken to guard the palace, 
and to subdue and disperse the mob, assuring him of his 
own attachment, and that of his army. The king ap- 
peared satisfied, and retired to rest. Lafayette had soli- 
cited to be intrusted with all the arrangements for protect- 
ing the royal family. This was refused. The outposts 
alone were granted to him, while the life-guards, the 
Swiss Guards, and a regiment recently inti'oduced from 
Flanders, had charge of the nearer and more important 
posts. Of the life-guards, there was but a small num- 
ber ; and, amid the many tumults of that eventful night, 
some accessible points had been overlooked and left un- 
guarded. One of the iron-gates had even been left open. 
Lafayette had made the most careful and judicious 
dispositions of his forces. He had personally inspected 
every post ; he had sent out numerous patroles. The 
crowd had dispersed ; it was nowhere to be seen. Ev- 
erything seemed perfectly quiet, and, at five o'clock in 



216 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

the moraing, he took some refreshment, and threw him- 
self on a bed for a moment's rest, of which he had been 
totally deprived for the last twenty-four hours. 

At this moment, the mob, roused by some tiger-spirit 
from their brief slumbers, began to stir, and to gather 
about the environs of the palace. One of the life-guards 
ordered them to retire. High words ensued, and they 
were fired on from a window. Infuriated by this as- 
sault, they instantly rushed on, passed the gate which 
had been carelessly left open, and made their way into 
the palace. Ascending a staircase, without molestation, 
they were entering one of the upper corridors, when 
their progress was arrested by two life-guardsmen, who, 
heroically defending themselves against overwhelming 
numbers of assailants, retreated step by step, keeping 
the infuriated mob at bay, in the hope that the royal 
family might escape, though by the sacrifice of their own 
lives. One of them, alarmed at the progress they were 
making toward the royal apartments, shouted, " Save 
the queen !" The cry rang through the halls, and 
reached the ears of the queen. In an agony of terror, 
she rushed into the king's apartments. Overcoming the 
feeble resistance of the two guards whom they first en- 
countered, the assailants burst into the queen's bed- 
chamber. Finding the bed just forsaken, in the impo- 
tence of their rage, they pierced it with their swords and 
knives, throwing everything into complete disorder, and 
then pushed on toward the apartments of the king. But 
they were immediately checked by the life-guards, who 
were posted in considerable numbers at that point. 

At this moment, the French Guards, composing a part 
of Lafayette's command, and stationed near the palace, 
hearing the uproar, hastened to the spot, and instantly 
overawed and dispersed the mob. Arriving at the door 
behind which the life-guards were stationed, they cried 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 217 

out, " Open the door ! We are friends ! The French 
Guards have not forgotten that you saved their regiment 
at Fontenoi !" The door was instantly throw^n open, 
and they rushed into each other's arms. 

All was confusion and tumult without. Lafayette, 
who had laid down only for a few moments, without 
closing his eyes, caught the first sojjind of disturbance, 
ran out, leaped upon the first hoi-s^ he met with, and 
galloped into the thickest of the fray. He there found 
several of the life-guards overpowered by the mob, and 
on the point of being sacrificed. At the risk of his own 
life, he dashed in and saved them, at the same time or- 
dering all his troops to hasten to the palace, for the pro- 
tection of the kinsf. Alone, in the midst of the enrag^ed 
multitude, from whose savage grasp he had that moment 
wi'enched their prey, Lafayette had turned upon himself 
the violence of their disappointed rage. " Down with 
him !" was the cry. A musket was aimed at his head. 
He saw it, and coolly commanded the people to bring 
the man to him. Instantly recovering their old regard 
for the man of the people, they turned upon the culprit, 
dashed out his brains on the pavement, and trampled 
him under their feet. 

Flying to the palace, Lafayette was instantly sur- 
rounded by his soldiers, who promised, in the presence 
of the king, to protect his person, or perish in the at- 
tempt. At this moment, the life-guards, whom he had 
just rescued from the murderous fury of the mob, flung 
up their caps and shouted, '^ Lafayette for ever /" The 
inmates of the palace, who witnessed the scene, were 
equally enthusiastic in their acknowledgments of grati- 
tude to him, whom they warmly embraced as their pre- 
server. Madame Adelaide, the sister of the king, ran up 
to him, and clasping him in her aims, exclaimed, " Gen- 
19 



218 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

eral, you have saved us !"* Even the queen, with all 
her prejudices and distrust, was compelled to acknowl- 
edge him as the sole instrument of their deliverance - — an 
acknowledgment which she often, afterward, repeated. 

While this scene was enacting within the palace, the 
angry multitudes without were insisting, with loud and 
discordant cries, upon the main object of their embassy. 
" To Paris !" — " To Paris !" — " The king to Paris !" 
was shouted by thousands of voices, till the welkin rung 
again with the cry. A council was called, to consider 
what should be done. Lafayette was requested to at- 
tend it, but refused, through a delicate suspicion that his 
presence might impose some restraint on the free ex- 
pression of opinion. When it was decided that the king 
should comply with the wishes of the people, they were 
informed of it, by slips of paper thrown from the win- 
dows. A shout of triumphant satisfaction arose from 
the mighty throng. Louis then presented himself to 
them, in a balcony, accompanied by Lafayette, as surety 
for the fulfilment of his pledge. He was greeted with 
loud and long-continued shouts of " Vive le roi /" The 
queen was then called for. When she appeared, with 
her children, she was received with insulting shouts and 
threats. " It was in that position," says Lavallette, " that 
I beheld, for the first time, that unfortunate princess. 
She was dressed in white ; her head was bare, and 
adorned with beautiful locks. . Motionless, and in a 
modest and noble attitude, she appeared to me like a 

* " I owe you more than my life," said Madame Adelaide to Lafayette ; 
" I owe you that of the king and of my poor nephew." When the royal 
family presented themselves at the Hotel de ViUe, Lafayette felt a hand 
pressing his with a feeling of deep gratitude, and he was gratified to find 
that it was that of Madame Elizabeth. This generous-minded princess, 
at a later period, evinced her gi-ateful remembrance of the service, by en- 
deavoring to destroy a document which his enemies at court designed to 
use as an instrument of his destnictiou. 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 219 

victim on the block. The enraged populace were not 
moved at the sight of wo in all its majesty. Impreca- 
tions increased, and the unfortunate princess could not 
even find support in the king." Lafayette then came 
forward, and begged to know what she intended to do. 
" I shall accompany the king," she replied with firmness. 
Then, turning to the people, he raised his voice to ad- 
dress them, but in vain. His words were lost in the wild 
uproar. If he would be understood, he must speak to 
the eye. Stooping, and taking the hand of the queen, 
he kissed it with profound respect. Swayed by their 
confidence and affection for one who had never betrayed 
the trust reposed in him, and transported at this signifi- 
cant act, the multitude instantly responded to it, with 
loud acclamations, " Long live the queen .'" — " Long live 
Lafayette .'" Thus, by the fidelity, firainess, and ad- 
di'ess, of one man, and he disti'usted as an enemy, the 
royal family was saved from the hands of an infuriated, 
starving rabble, the tide of popular indignation was turned 
suddenly back, and threats of bloodthirsty rage and re- 
venge were exchanged for shouts of loyalty, confidence, 
and affection. 

The life-guards were still in danger. They had fired 
upon the mob, and had only escaped their fury by the 
timely interposition of Lafayette. Kind-hearted and 
generous by nature, attached to his guards, and unwil- 
ling to expose them to the hazards of another meeting 
with the populace, without an attempt at reconciliation, 
the king earnestly requested Lafayette to use his influ- 
ence with the people on their behalf " With all my 
heart," he replied ; and taking one of them by the hand, 
he led him to the balcony, and presented him to the 
people. Then, clasping him in his arms, as a friend, he 
put on him his own shoulder-belt, as if he would say, 
** We acknowledge one master ; we are united in one 



220 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

cause." The populace assented witli shouts, and the 
reconciliation was complete. 

Lafayette had yet a difficult and delicate task to per- 
form. These hordes of savage men and intoxicated wom- 
en, rendered doubly frantic by the excesses in which they 
had indulged, and inflamed with the idea that they had 
achieved a great victory over their oppressors, were now 
to be sent back to their miserable houses in the metrop 
olis. Without a leader, without that unity of object 
which bound them together in their march to Ver- 
sailles, there was infinite danger of riot and bloodshed. 
The royal family, with all its attendants and guards, 
and the National Assembly, were also, by promise, to 
travel the same way. It required no ordinary skill in 
a commander to manage, at once, such heterogene- 
ous materials. But Lafayette was as fertile in resour- 
ces, as he was indefatigable in the use of them. By 
mingled persuasions and commands, he first induced the 
mob to file off in separate bands toward the city, as the 
head of the grand escort. He then sent after them a 
detachment of the army, to prevent them from turning 
back. In the quiet belief that the whole royal train w^as 
bringing up the rear, they drove madly on, shouting and 
singing like so many infernal furies, with every species 
of frantic and disgusting gesticulation. Arrived at the 
Palais Royal, they were quietly dispersed by the magis- 
trates, and Paris was reduced to something like order 
and repose, before the royal cortege had set out from 
Versailles. 

Received by the municipality and the people of Paris, 
with demonstrations of respect and joy, the king took 
possession of the Tuileries, which had not been occupied 
for a century. The charge of it was confided to the 
National Guards of the city, and their commander was 
thus made responsible to the nation for the safety of 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 221 

the king. It was a difficult and an unenviable posi- 
tion, subject, on every side, to the suspicions and jeal- 
ousies of all the various parties that agitated the na- 
tion. Distrusted by the court, and especially by the 
queen, whose influence with the king was unlimited, 
and who could not believe that a man so consistently 
devoted to the popular cause, could at the same time 
be sincere in his attachment to the king: — hated and 
maliciously branded as a jailer by the nobles, who 
hoped yet to recover possession of the royal person, 
that they might prolong their despotism in his name — 
and almost equally hated and distrusted by those 
radical agitators, who, having nothing to lose, thought 
there was nothing to be gained by a change which did 
not utterly uproot and overturn the ancient order of 
things — Lafayette had no other guide, amid the diffi- 
culties which surrounded him, than an honest, upright 
mind, conscious of right, and fearless of consequences, 
while satisfied that he was in the line of his duty. 

It was no part of the policy, or the wish of Lafayette, 
to put a restraint upon the freedom of the king. He 
was perfectly sincere in desiring to secure for France a 
constitutional monarchy. To his plan, the king was as 
necessary as the constitution — the legitimate executive, 
as the legitimate law. With this he was satisfied in the 
beginning, and with this he continued to be satisfied 
through all the stages of that political tornado, which, 
proceeding from simple reform to the wildest anarchy, 
swept away not only the forms of goveniment, but the 
very foundations of society. With this he remained sat- 
isfied, down to the end of his life ; and this, after the 
lapse of forty years, he lived to see accomplished, as he 
fully believed, in the revolution of 1830. Never carried 
away by the lawless enthusiasm of the times, he held on, 
firm and steadfast, to the measure of reform with which 
19* 



222 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

he originally set out. When others, demanding more, 
rushed madly by in a path which he foresaw could only 
lead to ruin, he paused, held back, resisted, and finally 
abandoned them altogether. And the result justified his 
foresight. That result is summed up in the " Reign of 
Terror," the martial despotism of Napoleon, and the 
final restoration of the ancient regime. 

There was no leaven of aristocratic pride in Lafay- 
ette's preference for the king. He had voluntarily and 
heartily relinquished all the hereditary rights and privi- 
leges of nobility. He dropped even the title of marquis, 
and refused to be recognised by it, as a distinctive ap- 
pellation. He was as sincere and consistent in his re- 
publicanism, as the sternest reformer in the new world. 
But he was thoroughly sensible of the prevalent defects 
in the French character, and saw infinite danger in the 
idea of throwing open the chief-magistracy to oft- 
recurring political contests. With a proud, wealthy, 
ambitious, but broken-down and disappointed aristoc- 
racy, on the one hand, and an ill-educated populace and 
numberless factions of grasping adventurers, on the 
other, the choice would be attended with insurmountable 
difficulties. Each new election would be the signal for 
a new revolution, and civil dissension, anarchy, and 
feud, would prepare the way for some new tyrant to re- 
store, in all its hateful oppressiveness, the sway of an 
absolute despotism. 

In this, the disinterestedness of his patriotism was 
most conspicuous. Had he sought his own aggrandize- 
ment, he might have put forth as fair a claim to the 
chief-magistracy, as any other man in France. With 
unparalleled popularity, and with the command of the 
most important division of the national militia, he might, 
without presumption, have promised himself the fortune 
of a Washington, or assumed, without fear of the result. 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 223 

the more questionable attitude of a Cromwell. But sel- 
fishness had no place in his system of public duty. He 
looked to the interests of France and the French peo- 
ple, and in all his endeavors to promote them, listened 
only to the generous counsels of an enlarged under- 
standing, and an enlightened conscience. History fur- 
nishes few examples of finnness, consistency, and self- 
sacrifice, and none of a steadfast adherence to one mag- 
nanimous idea, through a long, eventful, and stormy life, 
more striking than Lafayette. In one of his confiden- 
tial letters of this period, he says : "Do not calculate 
what I can do, for I shall not make use of that power. 
Do not calculate what I have done, for I shall accept no 
recompense. Calculate the public advantage, the wel- 
fare and liberty of my country, and believe that I shall 
refuse no burden, no danger, provided that, at the hour 
of tranquillity, I may return to private life ',for there noiu 
remains but one step for my ambition — that of arriving 
at zeroT 

The better to understand the true position of Lafay- 
ette, at this juncture, let us take a bird's-eye glance at 
the parties then in the ascendant, or engaged in the con- 
flict for the ascendency. The king was in Paris, seem- 
ingly free, but actually a prisoner. The duke of Or- 
leans, father of the late king, Louis Philippe, a man of 
prodigious wealth,* and of shameless profligacy, was 
plotting the death or deposition of the king, he cared 
not which, in the hope of being made regent, or lieu- 
tenant-general of the kingdom. By some of those who 
built their hopes of self-aggrandizement upon a change 
of dynasty, he was distinctly named as the successor to 
Louis XVI., and his wealth and aptness in intrigue gave 
him great facilities for creating and increasing the agi- 
tations of the country. Mirabeau, suspected of intimate 

* His amiual income was about $2,500,000. 



224 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

associations with the duke,* aspired to the ministry, well 
knowing that, though the king wears the crown and the 
purple, the ministers are the Teal depositaries of all ex- 
ecutive power. Though nominally of the same conserv- 
ative party with Lafayette, he was jealous of his popu- 
larity and power, and humbled and vexed by the per- 
sonal purity of his life. Corrupt in heart and manners, 
degraded from his rank in society by the precocious vil- 
lany of his early manhood, and smarting under the con- 
sciousness that, however feared or flattered as a political 
partisan, he could not be respected as a man — the lan- 
guage of his heart toward Lafayette was — 

" There is a daily beauty in his life, 
Which makes me ugly." 

He hated him, because he was too high above him to 
admit the hope of outstripping him. And, with a petty 
malice, which showed the real littleness of his nature, 
he sneeringly called him a Grandison-Cromwell. The 
liberals, represented in the assembly by Duport, Bar- 
nave, and the two Lameths, and the radicals, or destruc- 
tives, among the people, guided and warped by the in- 
fernal counsels of Danton, Petion, Marat, and Robes- 
pierre, were equally opposed to the conservative views 
of Lafayette, and equally afraid of the immense power 
he had gained by the recent movements. 

Insensible to fear, and unshaken in his high purpose 
by the distrust and jealousy of those whom he was most 
eager to serve, Lafayette determined, in spite of every 
obstacle, to uphold the king and the constitution. For 
this end, he resolved, in the first place, to get rid of the 
duke of Orleans. He accordingly sought an interview 
with that prince, in which, by the manly plainness of his 
speech, and the firmness of his manner, he intimidated 

* " What signifies it to you,"' said Mirabeau to Mounier, "whether the 
king be called Louis or Philippe V 



MOB-RULE IN PARIS. 225 

him into an agreement, not only to withdraw from the 
capital, but even to quit the country for a season. The 
king, feigning to be reluctantly forced into the measure, 
wrote to the duke, saying that it was absolutely necessary 
that either he or Lafayette should retire, that, in the ex- 
isting state of public opinion, the choice between them 
was in no way doubtful. He therefore gave him, as a 
pretext for his absence, a commission for England. 

Mirabeau was indignant at this aiTangement, and sent 
word both to the duke and to Lafayette, that he would 
denounce them in the tribune, if the departure of the for- 
mer for England should take place. The duke was sha- 
ken in his purpose. But Lafayette, as little moved by 
threats as by promises, went to him again with an imper- 
ative order to depart. At this second interview, the duke 
affected great surprise and regret at the efforts of his party 
to make disturbance in his name, and assured the gene- 
ral that he would endeavor, when at London, to discover 
the authors of these movements. To which Lafayette 
replied, " You are more interested than any other per- 
son, since no one is so deeply compromised as yourself." 
At their last meeting, the duke remarked, " My enemies 
pretend that you hoxe proofs against me." — ** They must 
be rather mine who assert it," replied Lafayette; "if I 
were able to produce proofs against you, I should already 
have had you aiTested, and I give you warning that I 
am diligently seeking such proofs everywhere." This 
perfect frankness and fearlessness of tone, together with 
his own consciousness of guilt, decided the point, and 
he immediately left the country. 

Mirabeau, on receiving information of his departure, 
instead of putting his threat into execution, gave vent to 
his private vexation, by exclaiming, " The fool is not 
worth the trouble that is taken about him." Mirabeau 
was no coward ; but he had too much of " the better 



226 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

part of valor" to come to an open conflict with " the 
man of the people," and " the savior of the king." His 
speech was already written, full of vehement denuncia- 
tion, and he was on the way to the assembly to pro- 
nounce it, when he met, on the bridge of Sevres, one of 
Lafayette's aids, who was returning to Paris with the 
duke's passport. This, and the duke's letter to the as- 
sembly, intended to vindicate himself, but at the same 
time fully disclosing the manly and loyal part which La- 
fayette had assumed in the matter, so effectually quenched 
the fire and silenced the thunder of his intended philipicy 
that there was nothing of Mirabeau left in it, and he had 
no resource but to commit it to the flames. 



1790. 227 



CHAPTER XVI. 

1790 THE REVOLUTION THE FEDERATION THE 

FLIGHT OF THE KING. 

A PERIOD of comparative quiet succeeded the turbu- 
lent epoch of the king's return to Paris. The last three 
months of the year 1789 were not distinguished by any 
important event. Louis was, however, far from being 
contented in his new position. He felt himself a cap- 
tive in his palace, and endeavored to make it appear that 
he was so. The nobles were continually haiping upon 
this idea, and even thought, on the strength of it, to an- 
nul the laws to which he had given a constrained assent. 
The queen complained to Lafayette that the king was 
not free, alleging in proof of the position, that the duty 
of guarding the palace was assigned to the national mi- 
litia, while it appropriately belonged to the king's life- 
guards. The latter had been dismissed after the scenes 
of the 5th and 6th of October. Lafayette immediately 
inquired if their recal would afford any satisfaction to 
herself or her royal husband, promising that he would 
instantly use measures to effect it. The queen hesitated 
to answer, but could not consistently refuse a boon which 
but a moment before she had represented as so desirable. 
Lafayette lost no time in presenting the matter to the 
municipality, which, at his request, sent a formal petition 
to his majesty, to recal his life-guards, offering, at the 
same time, to share with them the duty of the palace- 



228 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

The king and queen were gratified by this mark of re- 
gard to their wishes. The effect, however, was not 
what they desired ; and their advisers, who hoped to 
gain a point by representing them as not free in their/ 
movements, persuaded them, after all, to reject the prop- 
osition, under the pretence that the king would not ex- 
pose the life-guards to the risk of being murdered by 
the populace of Paris. To the extreme mortification of 
the queen, who communicated this reply to Lafayette, 
he informed her majesty that he had just met one of the 
corps, walking in full uniform in the palais-royal, not 
only without fear, but in no danger of molestation from 
the people. 

At the very beginning of the year 1790, symptoms of 
fresh disturbances began to appear. The distant mut- 
terings of a gathering storm were heard, and many 
strong hearts trembled. Rumor, with her hundred 
tongues, devised the most alarming plots of " treason, 
stratagem, and spoils." Bailly and Lafayette were to 
be assassinated, the king forcibly earned off by a foreign 
army, and the assembly blown into the air, by the agency 
of some unknown and unsuspected Gruy Fawkes. The 
investigations which followed these rumors, revived, in 
all its force, a suspicion that the court was acting a 
double part, and that, if there was conspiracy anywhere, 
it was within the walls of the Tuileries. To lull 
this to rest, the king proceeded to the assembly, 
on the 4th of February, and delivered a speech replete 
with sound sense, benevolent feeling, and generous con- 
fidence in the people, declaring his solemn intention to 
carry out to the letter every measure of reform which it 
should be the will of the nation to adopt. The hall rang 
with plaudits, and the king was conducted back to the 
Tuileries, amid the shouts of a grateful people. 

In this the king was sincere, but the court was hypo- 



1790. 229 

critical. The rejoicings which everywhere responded 
to the language of the throne, were followed by new 
jealousies, and distrust toward all his intimate advisers. 
Lafayette, true to his post, warned the queen, and ex- 
postulated with the ministers ; but in vain. He was 
looked upon by them as the enemy of the king, and his 
piiident and friendly counsels were utterly and petulantly 
rejected. 

About this time, Mirabeau transferred himself to the 
court,* to whose service Bouille, a distinguished general 
of the army, and a relative of Lafayette, was also devo- 
tedly attached. The latter was a true monarchist, and 
opposed to all the reforms of the revolution ; but Mira- 
beau, without abandoning the popular cause, was only 
becoming more loyal in his wish to retain the kingly ele- 
ment in the frame- work of the government. Lafayette 
had undergone no change. Firm alike in his loyalty and 
his patriotism, he was as truly devoted to the king as to 
his country, and resolved, at all sacrifices, to maintain the 
integrity of both. If the queen had listened to reason 
rather than to prejudice, if the court had given its con- 
fidence to the true-hearted and irreproachable Lafayette 
as freely as to those evil-minded persons who made it 
their interest to abuse him, the revolution, though turbu- 
lent, might have been a bloodless one — the Reign of 
TeiTor, and the subversion of order, civil, religious, and 

* The reception of Mirabeau, as a partisan, and the liberal wages al- 
lowed him ($10 000 per month), indicate the great sti-aits to which the 
royal pair were reduced, as well as the singular inveteracy of the queen's 
personal prejudice against Lafayette. It was known to her at the time 
when she granted him a private interview, that, a few months previous, 
Mirabeau had proposed that a decree should be passed, declaring that the 
person of the kins;' only was inviolable, while Lafayette insisted that the 
queen should also be included in the provision ; to which Mirabeau replied, 
"Well, general, since you will have it so, let her live. A humiliated 
queen may be useful ; but a beheaded queen can only serve for the com- 
position of some poor tragedies." 
20 



230 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

social, might have been averted — the empire, with its 
iron despotism, and its exhausting wars of conquest, 
mig^lit never have been. Louis XVI. might have enjoyed 
a long, peaceful, and happy reign, transmitting to his 
own children a crown more glorious than that of abso- 
lute power, and a name fairer, brighter, and worthier, 
than the most splendid achievements of royal heroism 
and imperial conquest could make it. 

Amid all the irregularities and extravagances of the 
radical reformers of the day, Lafayette stood firm and 
almost alone, in the pure unyielding simplicity of genu- 
ine republicanism, as far removed from anarchy and ex- 
cess on one side, as from despotism and slavery on the 
other. While he remained unmoved and unchangeable 
in his adherence to the throne, and in his advocacy of 
all its just prerogatives, he was ready to sacrifice at once, 
and for ever, all the honors and advantages of personal 
rank, though inherited through a long line of noble an- 
cestry, and take his place among the mass of his coun- 
trymen, on a footing of perfect equality. When it was 
proposed to abolish all hereditary titles of distinction, he 
cordially and powerfully advocated the measure, and 
from that moment laid aside the " marquis" from his long 
list of names, like an old wornout livery, and refused to 
be recognised by it, in both public and private life. 
This question arose unexpectedly, during the discussion 
of a motion to remove from the statue of Louis XIV. 
the slaves chained at the monarch's feet, as slaves, even 
marble ones, would disgrace the soil of liberated France. 
The debate was an exciting one. In the midst of the 
confusion of many voices, one was heard above the rest. 
It was that of Lambel, who exclaimed : " Since we must 
efface all the monuments of pride, we must not only 
overthrow statues, but suppress all the titles of dukes, 
counts, marquises " — He had not finished his sentence, 



THE REVOLUTION. 231 

wlien Charles Lametli and Lafayette rose at the same 
moment to speak. Lameth claimed precedence, and 
seconded the motion. Lafayette followed, saying : " The 
motion that has been made, and which M. Lameth sup- 
ports, is so necessary a consequence of the constitution, 
that it can not occasion the slightest difficulty. I content 
myself with uniting in it with my whole heart." 

In the course of the discussion, the objection was 
raised that these dignities were often bestowed, as a re- 
ward for public services, " And what," the objector 
asked, "would you substitute for the words — such a 
man was created count, or marquis, for services ren- 
dered the state 1" — "Let it be merely said," replied La- 
fayette, with truly Roman simplicity, " that, on such a 
day, such a person saved the state." Moderate in all 
things, and well knowing that, as the substance was 
already gone, the shadow was not worth contending 
about, he was willing that those who wished to retain 
their titles should be at liberty to do so. But the meas- 
ure was caiTied to the extreme, and all titles were per- 
emptorily abolished. 

So unbounded was the popularity, and so mighty the 
influence of Lafayette at this period, that the court, al- 
ways distrustful of him, began to entertain the most ab- 
surd dread of his ascendency. They affected to be 
greatly alarmed at a rumor which was then put in circu- 
lation by some mischievous persons, that he was about 
to be offered again the supreme command of all the Na- 
tional Guards of the kingdom. " It was but natural,'* 
remarks Thiers, " that those who did not know Lafay- 
ette should feel this distrust ; and his enemies, of all par- 
ties, sti'ove to augment it. How, in fact, could it be sup- 
posed, that a man possessing such poj^ularity, at the 
head of a considerable force, would not abuse it ] Noth- 
ing, however, was farther from his intention. He had 



232 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

resolved to be nothing but a citizen, and, whether from 
virtue, or well-judged ambition, the merit is the same. 
Human pride must be placed somewhere — it is virtue 
to place it in doing what is right." 

The winter of 1790 was marked by every species of 
factious plot and private intrigue, that could indicate or 
illustrate the festering corruption of the body politic. 
Among other alarms, there were anonymous letters ad- 
dressed to the ministers, announcing a conspiracy, the 
object of which was to place upon the throne a person 
of importance, whose name was not mentioned. The 
matter was revealed to Lafayette, with the expectation 
that he would betray some consciousness of the plot. 
With perfect openness and unreserve, he replied, that 
the duke of Orleans was the only prince on whom sus- 
picion could alight. The queen rejoined, regarding him 
with a piercing look, that " it was not necessary to be a 
prince to pretend to the crown." Lafayette, interrupt- 
ing her, coolly replied, " At least, madame, I know no 
one but he who would desire it." 

The intrepidity and personal influence of Lafayette, 
and the varied nature of his duties, as conservator of the 
public peace, were happily illustrated by a singular inci- 
dent which occurred in the early part of this year. A 
man, accused of having stolen a bag of oats, was seized 
by the people, and, in spite of all the efforts of the guard, 
had, as was supposed, just been put to death. Lafayette, 
with Romeuf, one of his aides, passing that way in a car- 
riage, was informed of the circumstance. Ordering the 
coachman to drive on as far as possible, they alighted, and 
threw themselves into the midst of the crowd. One man 
raised his bludgeon against Romeuf, who had laid hold 
of the body, to protect it from further violence. La- 
fayette placed himself astride of it, and, addressing the 
crowd, told them they were mere assassins. But, as 



THE REVOLUTION. . 233 

he could not believe them all to be guilty, he called 
on them to desis^nate the murderers. A man beino- 
pointed out to him as the ringleader, he seized him by 
the collar, exclaiming, " I will show you that every func- 
tion is honorable, when we execute the law." He then 
dragged the cowardly culprit through the crowd, and 
handed him over to the police. The patrol of the Na- 
tional Guards pressed around him, and were not willing 
to leave him alone, exposed to the fury of the mob. But, 
having delivered up his prisoner, he ordered the guards 
to make a way, and, mounting the parapet, harangued 
the populace in terms of the severest reproach for their 
disorderly and criminal conduct. He told them they 
were the dupes of factious men and robbers, who wished 
to compel the National Assembly and the king to quit 
Paris, that they might devote the city to fire and plun- 
der ; but that the tranquillity and property of the capital 
being confided to his protection, he would crush all who 
should dare to disturb the public order. He was confi- 
dent he should be supported by the people ; but, if he 
were quite alone, he would resist crime, and cause law 
to be respected, till his latest breath ; and, while in the 
upright discharge of that duty, he did not believe there 
existed a man bold enough to attack him personally. 

At that moment, he perceived a new movement in the 
mighty mass before him, and soon learned that the rob- 
ber, whom he supposed dead, having revived, the mob 
was about to hang him, he flew to the spot, with Romeuf 
and a few of the National Guards, rescued the poor 
wretch from their hands, and consigned him to a place 
of safe-keeping and friendly care, where he soon entirely 
recovered. Then, recommencing his speech to the peo- 
ple, he rejoiced with them that they had not been guilty 
of murder, warned them to be always quiet, orderly, and 
obedient to law, and ordered them to separate ; which 
20* 



234 , LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

they immediately did, shouting, as they went, "Vive La- 
fayette !" The queen, on hearing of this incident, ac- 
companied with commendations of Lafayette's deep sen- 
sibility to the interests and rights of all classes of the 
people, replied, " Yes, the general has sensibility for 
everybody but kings." 

The constitution of France was now so far consoli- 
dated, that the way was prepared for the solemn cere- 
mony of its public adoption and ratification. This, it 
was resolved should be done, with great pomp, on the 
14th of July, the anniversary of the destruction of the 
Bastile. The ceremony w^as directed to take place in 
the Champ de Mars, a spacious area, extending from the 
Military School to the bank of the Seine, and comprising 
about five hundred acres of ground. Lafayette was 
charged with the whole arrangement of the festival, and 
appointed chief of the Federation, in his quality as com- 
mandant of the Parisian guard. The object of this Fed- 
eration was the union into one body of all the National 
Guards of France — a million of citizen-soldiers, pledged 
to each other, to the king, and to the nation, to support 
and defend the constitution, at the hazard of their lives. 

To prepare the vast amphitheatre, twelve thousand 
laborers were employed. Apprehending that, even with 
this force, the work could not be finished in season, the 
whole population of Paris volunteered their assistance. 
A scene of the most exciting activity and enthusiasm 
ensued. All classes, and both sexes, mingled in. the 
glorious work, marching with order and decorum to the 
spot, to the thrilling notes of martial music, and under 
banners with appropriate devices. The most perfect 
harmony prevailed to the last. The people felt that 
they were laboring for themselves — laying the founda- 
tions of their temple of liberty. 

The object of all this preparation was the administra- 



THE FEDERATION. 235 

tion of the civic oath — the oath to be taken alike by the 
king, the assembly, the army, and the people, to support 
and preserve the constitution, as the sacred charter of 
the nation's ris^hts. 

On the 10th of July, the deputations from the various 
departments assembled, in great numbers, in the house 
of commons of Paris. Lafayette was chosen president 
by acclamation. He wished to decline the honor, but 
could not prevail upon the assembly to excuse him. 
Several resolutions were immediately presented, by mem- 
bers from the different departments, expressive of the 
nation's gi'atitude to Lafayette, their high sense of his 
invaluable services, their confidence in the purity of his 
principles, and their affection for his person. The pres- 
ident refused to put them to vote, and, after the usual 
preliminaries, adjourned the meeting. On the 13th, the 
king "and the National Assembly received the confeder- 
ates in the hall of the assembly, where Lafayette, as 
president and major-general of the Federation, pro- 
nounced an eloquent address to the assembly, closing 
with these emphatic sentences : " May the celebration 
of the great day be the signal of the conciliation of all 
parties, of the forgetfulness of all resentments, of peace, 
and of public felicity. Do not fear that our holy enthu- 
siasm can lead us beyond the limits prescribed by public 
order. Under the auspices of law, the standard of lib- 
erty can never become that of license. We swear to 
you, gentlemen, to respect the law, of which we are the 
defenders ; we swear it on our honor ; and freemen and 
Frenchmen can not give their word in vain." 

Turning, then, to the king, he addressed him as pos- 
sessing *' the most glorious of all titles — that oi chief of 
Frenchmen, and king of a free people. Enjoy, sire, the 
reward of your virtues. Let this pure homage, which 
despotism never could command, be the glory and rec- 



236 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ompense of a citizen-king. The National Guards of 
France swear to your majesty an obedience that shall 
have no limit but that of law — an affection that shall 
have no end but that of life."* 

The 14th at length arrived. The day and the scene 
are thus eloquently described by Garlyle : *' In spite of 
plotting aristocrats, lazy, hired spademen, and almost of 
destiny itself (for there has been much rain), the Champ 
de Mars is fairly ready. The morning comes, cold for 
a July one ; but such a festivity would make Greenland 
smile. Through every inlet of that national amphithea- 
tre — for it is a league in circuit, cut with openings at 
due intervals — floods in the living throng, covering, 
without tumult, space after space. Two hundred thou- 
sand patriotic men, and, twice as good, one hundred 
thousand patriotic women, all decked and glorified as 
one can fancy, sit waiting in this Champ de Mars. What 
a picture, that circle of bright-dyed life, spread up there 
on its thirty-seated slope, leaning, one would say, on the 
thick umbrage of those avenue trees — for the stems of 
them are hidden by the height ; and all beyond it were 
greenness of the summer-earth, with the gleam of wa- 
ters, or white sparklings of stone edifices. On remotest 
steeple, and invisible village-belfry, stand men with spy- 
glasses. On the heights of Chaillot are many-colored, 
undulating groups ; round, and far on, over all the cir- 
cling heights that embosom Paris, it is as one more or 
less peopled amphitheatre, which the eye grows dim with 
measuring. Nay, heights have cannon, and a floating- 
battery of cannon is on the Seine. When eye fails, ear 

* The reply of tlie king was equally noble and touching. " Repeat to 
your fellow-citizens," said he, "that I should wish to speak to them as I 
now speak to you ; repeat to them that their king- is their father, their 
brother, their friend ; that he can only be happy in their happiness, great 
in their glory, powerful in their liberty, rich in their prosperity, and sor- 
rowful in their calamity." 



THE FEDERATION. 237 

shall serve. And all France, properly, is but one am- 
phitheatre ; for, in paved town and unpaved hamlet, men 
walk, listening, till the muffled thunder sounds audibly 
on their horizon, that they, too, may begin swearing and 
firing. But now, to streams of music, come federates 
enough, for they have assembled on the Boulevard St. 
Antoine, and come marching through the city with their 
eighty-three department-banners, and blessings not loud 
but deep ; comes National Assembly, and takes its seat 
under its canopy ; comes royalty, and takes seat on a 
throne beside it; and Lafayette, on a white charger, is 
here, and all the civic functionaries ; and the federates 
form dances, till their strictly military evolutions and 
manceuvres can begin. Task not the pen of mortal to 
describe them; truant imagination droops — declares 
that it is not worth while. There is wheeling and 
sweeping to slow, to quick, to double-quick time. Sieur 
Motier, or Generalissimo Lafayette — for they are one 
and the same, and he is general of France, in the king's 
stead, for twenty-four hours — must step forth with that 
sublime, chivalrous gait of his, solemnly ascend the steps 
of Fatherland's altar, in sight of heaven and of scarcely- 
breathing earth, and pronounce the oath, ' To king, to 
law, to nation,' in his own name and that of armed 
France ; whereat there is waving of banners, and ac- 
claim sufficient. The National Assembly must swear, 
standing in its place ; the king himself, audibly. The 
king swears ; and now be the welkin split with vivats ; 
let citizens, enfranchised, embrace ; armed federates 
clang their arms ; above all, that floating-battery speak. 
It has spoken — to the four corners of France ! From 
eminence to eminence bursts the thunder, faint heard, 
loud repeated. From Arras to Avignon — from Metz 
to Bayonne — over Orleans and Blois — it rolls, in can- 
non-recitative ; Puy bellows of it amid his granite mount- 



238 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ains ; Pau, where is the shell-cradle of great Henri. At 
far Marseilles, one can think, the ruddy evening wit- 
nesses it; over the deep-blue Mediterranean waters, the 
castle of If, ruddy tinted, darts forth from every can- 
non's mouth its tongue of fire ; and all the people shout. 
Yes, France is free ! Glorious France, that has burst 
out so, into universal sound and smoke, and attained — 
the Phrygian cap of liberty !" 

In the midst of this scene of intense and intoxicating 
enthusiasm and overpowering excitement, Lafayette, 
drenched with rain, and almost overcome with heat, was 
hailed by a stranger in the crowd, who, advancing with 
a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, said, " Gen- 
eral, you are hot; take a glass" — at the same time 
pouring out a full bumper. A momentary suspicion of 
treason crossed the minds of some of his friends ; but 
Lafayette, as unsuspicious as he was openhearted and 
generous, looking calmly at the stranger, took the glass, 
and drained it at a single draught. The people, with 
shouts, applauded his confidence ; while he, with a smile 
of complaisance, cast a benevolent and confiding look 
upon the multitude, as if he would say, " I fear nothing; 
I suspect nothing but good from you." The language 
of the look was understood, and received with renewed 
shouts and vivats. 

The modesty of the president of the Federation inducing 
him to refuse all acknowledgment from that body, the dep- 
uties, by a private arrangement, assembled at a very early 
hour, on the morning of the 16th, before the arrival of 
the president, and voted an address, which was prepared 
during the day ; and, at a similar meeting on the follow- 
ing morning, unanimously adopted. They then pro- 
ceeded, en masse, to the house of Lafayette, and ad- 
dressed him, by their senior member, in the following 
terms : — 



THE FEDERATION. 239 

" Sir : He who, at the moment when the Constituent 
Assembly was threatened with the vengeance of despo- 
tism, dared to speak 'of the rights of man as a freeman 
himself — he, who had co-operated, in so glorious a man- 
ner, in the revolution of the new world, ought, undoubt- 
edly, to devote himself to the one his own fellow-citizens 
have so lately achieved, and prove himself to them, also, 
the friend and defender of liberty. But you, who have 
done so much for the public cause, have deteiTnined to 
receive no recompense ; you have refused the homage 
prepared for you by the hearts of our grateful citizens ; 
you withdrew from our applause and testimonies of af- 
fection, and you have shown us that a great man never 
conceives he has done enough for his country. The 
deputies of the National Guards of France will retire 
with regi'et, not having been able to appoint you their 
chief. The constitutional law arrests the impulse of our 
hearts ; and it is your glory, that you proposed that law 
yourself, and fixed a limit to our gratitude. But, if you 
can not become our chief, you shall be for ever our 
friend, our guide, our model Receive the expres- 
sions of joy and affection, which your presence excites, 
as the homage due to him whom our regenerated coun- 
try has placed at the head of her defenders." 

Taken by surprise, and overcome with emotion, the 
general briefly replied, in a manner worthy of himself 
and of the principles he had always inculcated. " My 
emotions, gentlemen, do not allow me to find expressions 
adequate to my feelings. I have often reminded you, 
that the National Guards of France, assembled here, 
ought to present no address, except to the National As- 
sembly and the king. Judge, therefore, whether I can 
consent to the honorable and touching exception you 
design to make in my favor. No, gentlemen, permit 
me to consider it as a testimony of friendship to your 



240 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Parisian brothers-in-arms, in the person of their com- 
mander " 

On the 20th, the session of the Federates was closed 
by an address from the president, as rich in sublime 
moral sentiment, as it was eloquent in thought and feel- 
ing. A single paragraph will illustrate the spirit and 
style of the whole : " Equality, gentlemen, is not injured 
by the exercise of those authorities which public utility 
renders necessary, and which the constitution has estab- 
lished ; but it is injured by the slightest pretension which 
exceeds the limit traced by law. Let aTnhition ohtain 
no power over you. Love the friends of the people; 
but reserve hlind suhmission for law, and enthusiasm for 
liberty. Pardon this counsel, gentlemen, you granted 
me the privilege of giving, when you showered on me 
every species of favor a fellow-citizen can receive ; and 
my heart, in its delicious emotion, could not avoid expe- 
riencing a feeling of alarm. ^^ 

The spirit of union, of harmony, of fraternity, seemed 
to pervade all ranks, from the king to the beggar, and 
to promise an easy and peaceful triumph to the cause 
of the people. But it was only the enthusiasm of 
the moment. The next day, the old discussions were 
renewed, and the old jealousies revived; and the torrent 
of revolution rolled on, as if nothing had obstructed its 
course. 

It was, and for a long time had been, the secret wish 
of the court, and of the ultra royalist party, to induce 
the king to leave France. They hoped, by removing him 
from the immediate atmosphere of the revolution, not only 
to save him from that terrible fate which seemed to be in 
reserve for him in Paris, but to enable him, under the 
support and countenance of his allies, to act with more 
independence and efficiency in arresting the downward 
tendency of things. Many plans were devised to effect 



THE FEDERATION. 241 

his removal. Even when Louis seemed all complai- 
sance to the people, and all pliancy to the will of their 
representatives, he was daily induced by his courtiers to 
favor the means to disappoint that will, and to escape 
from the too free and familiar surveillance of the nation. 
Suspicion was awake to these movements, and precau- 
tions were taken to counteract them. Lafayette, as 
commander-in-chief of the Parisian guards, was specially 
charged with the protection of the royal person, and with 
the prevention of his flight. 

The departure of the king would have been the sig- 
nal for a civil war, which was dreaded by all the parties 
to the revolution, and desired only by the aristocracy. 
In such an event, they hoped, by the aid of foreign arms, 
to subdue France again to an absolute despotism, and so 
to regain their lost honors and prerogatives. Lafayette, 
though sincerely attached to the king, and honestly de- 
sirous to preserve him to the nation, and with him all 
the powers and prerogatives of a constitutional monarch, 
was the object of so much suspicion and prejudice in the 
palace, that he would not obtrude himself there, except 
in cases of absolute necessity. He had too much confi- 
dence in the king's sincerity and honor, to suppose him 
capable of duplicity. 

Meanwhile, his old friends and colleagues, one after 
another, deserted him. Mirabeau, who hated him for his 
irreproachable integrity and purity of character, had 
quite gone over to the aristocracy and the court, and 
took the lead in plots for the removal of the king. The 
Lameths, on the other hand, and others of the reformers, 
deeming Lafayette too much attached to the court, were 
constantly throwing difficulties in his way, and plotting 
to supplant him in office. 

On the occasion of a slight popular outbreak, on the 
28th of February, a new opportunity was affi^rded him 
21 



242 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

to " define his position," and he did define it in such a 
manner as ought for ever to have put to silence the ma- 
licious calumnies of his enemies. This disturbance was 
planned and fomented by the minions of the court, who 
flattered themselves that they should be able to throw 
Paris into confusion, by decoying the commander of the 
National Guards out of the city, and involving him in a 
contest with the people, where he would be sure to be 
overpowered, or assassinated. They hoped then to take 
advantage of the storm, and the absence of the pilot, to 
seize the helm, and reinstate themselves in their ancient 
position. 

There was an old castle at Vincennes, a few miles 
from Paris, which had been one of the strongholds of 
tyranny, a sort of suburban Bastile. It was in bad 
odor with the people, and Lafayette had several times 
advised the king to order its demolition, as he could 
not brook the idea of its being done, under constitu- 
tional order, by a mob. Acting upon this hint, his aris- 
tocratic enemies had contrived to get up an excitement 
against the old tower, and to send off" a horde of rufiians 
in that direction. Lafayette, hearing the uproar, and 
learning the cause, made instant arrangements, by a ju- 
dicious disposition of his guards, to secure the tranquil- 
lity of the city, and hastened with his whole staff" to Vin- 
cennes. The work of destruction had already begun. 
The insane fury of the populace was increasing with 
every blow that was struck. Dashing into the midst, 
and, by his commanding presence and well-known voice, 
instantly establishing order among the National Guards 
of the place, whom some factious persons from the city 
were endeavoring to mislead, he ordered the rioters to 
disperse, caused the ringleaders to be seized and sent to 
prison for trial, and, in a very few hours, restored ordei 
and the peaceful dominion of law. 



THE FEDERATION. 24S 

It was not without gi'eat personal hazard, that Lafay- 
ette discharged this double duty of military commander, 
and chief of the police. Several shots were fired at him, 
and his officers, though without effect. On his return at 
night, as he was passing through the street St. Antoine, 
an attempt was made, by one of the hired ruffians in the 
crowd, to trip up his horse, which was frustrated by a 
resolute thrust of the bayonet from a grenadier of the Na- 
tional Guard. It was rumored that the general was 
killed ; and gi*eat excitement prevailed in the city, till 
the report was authentically contradicted. 

During the whole day, efforts had been made to dis- 
arm the National Guards on service at the Tuileries, by 
furnishing them freely with liquor, and urging them to 
frequent libations. A large number of royalists, many 
of whom had been invited from the country for the pur- 
pose, not by the king, nor even with his knowledge, but 
by the officers of his household, had collected in the 
palace, and taken possession of the apartments which 
separated the hall of the National Guards from the king's 
chambers. Some had entered openly, by the gate, and 
some by secret passages, which were sacred to the uses 
of the royal household. They were armed with small- 
swords, sabres, sword-canes, pistols, and daggers, which 
they had concealed about their persons, on their en- 
trance. The king, when all were assembled, left his 
room for a conference with his visiters. What they pro- 
posed to do has never been fully disclosed. But it is 
evident some desperate deed was meditated. It might, 
perhaps, have been accomplished, had not the over- 
heated zeal of the chevalier de Saint Elme, or, it may 
be, his over-draughts upon the royal wine-flagons, got 
the better of his prudence, and precipitated the crisis, 
before their plans were matured for action. Full of 
loyal valor, and ready to face, single-handed, the whole 



244 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

National Gruard,lie threw open the door leading to their 
hall, and flourished a pistol before them. Great excite- 
ment ensued. The alarm was given. The guards rushed 
to their posts. The king was in the utmost consterna- 
tion. Timid by nature, and exceedingly averse to the 
shedding of blood, he begged his brave cavaliers to dis- 
band at once, and keep their arms out of sight. It was 
well that they did not hesitate to obey, for the National 
Guards, who had just heard the rumor of the assassina- 
tion of their chief, were about to burst into the apart- 
ment. They disposed of their weapons as well as they 
could, and escaped, with all haste, from the palace, not, 
however, without insults and even blows from the exas- 
perated citizen-soldiers, whom they had so shamefully 
compromised, and so nearly betrayed. 

While this scene was passing, Lafayette arrived from 
Vincennes. The National Guards received him with 
transports of joy — the courtiers with looks of chagrin 
and dismay. To some of them, but especially to the 
king's chamberlain, he spoke with gi'eat severity. He 
waited immediately upon the king, who, in expressing 
his regret for this untoward incident, which he had no 
agency in procuring, remarked, that " the false zeal, or 
extravagance, of the people who called themselves his 
friends, would ruin him" — a prediction but too signally 
verified. 

On returning from the king to the hall, the general 
was informed that a considerable quantity of arms had 
been secreted in the closets. They were sent for, and 
brought out into the court. The daggers, of which there 
were many, were broken by the soldiers, in the presence 
of some of the chevaliers, who were still smarting under 
the failure of their scheme, and the indignities they had 
met with from the guards. The leaders of them were 
familiarly known, from that time, as " chevaliers du 



FLIGHT OF THE KING. 245 

poignard ;" while the aristocratic sensibility of the offi- 
cers of the household was painfully shocked, on the fol- 
lowing morning, by the " order of the day," in which, 
beside being spoken of in terms of severe reproach, they 
found themselves designated as " chiefs of the domes- 
ticity." 

Not long after, as the king was riding toward Saint 
Cloud, the populace, influenced by a rumor that he was 
about to flee from the country, an*ested his progress by 
violently stopping the horses in the street. Lafayette 
hastened to the spot, and entreated the king to remain 
quietly in his carriage, assuring him that he would soon 
clear a passage, and leave him to pass unmolested. Louis 
refused to accept his interposition, and, alighting from 
his carriage, proceeded on foot. 

The flight of the king, so long concerted, was now 
actually determined upon. The evening of the 21st of 
June was selected for his departure. Disguised, and in 
silence, the different members of the royal family left the 
palace, and proceeded on foot to a place of meeting, 
where a carriage was in waiting. The queen, accom- 
panied by a single soldier, who was unacquainted with 
the streets, lost her way. Passing the carriage of La- 
fayette, attended by servants bearing torches, she vwas 
alarmed lest she should be discovered, and concealed her- 
self under the wickets of the Louvre, till the carriage 
had passed. 

The flight of the king was not known in the city till 
quite late the following morning. Then all Paris was 
in an uproar. Consternation was depicted in every coun- 
tenance. The enemies of Lafayette, who could not 
comprehend his attachment to the king, charged him 
with being accessory to his departure. That charge was 
repeated, and maliciously magnified by his political ene- 
mies ; and it is not the least of the many sins of the 
21* 



246 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

court, on that occasion, that this cowardly desertion of 
his realm by the king, was understood by them to involve 
the life of one who had been faithful in every charge, and 
who had several times perilled his own to save the king's 
life. The rage of the people was extreme, and nothing 
but their long-tried and perfect confidence in Lafayette 
restrained them from venting it all upon his person. The 
cry of death was more than once raised against him. The 
storm was rapidly increasing in violence, when, with a 
calm countenance, and with a dignified self-composure, he 
presented himself among them, assembled in vast num- 
bers before the Hotel de Ville. Fury was depicted in 
many faces, anxiety in all. He made no defence. He 
offered no explanation. He only replied to their looks 
of dismay, and their loud complaints and lamentations 
— " If you term this event a misfortune, what word 
would you apply to a counter-revolution, that should de- 
prive you of liberty ]" This simple question, diverting 
their thoughts from the present evil to a danger within 
and about themselves, and proving clearly that their 
general was true to them and their cause, restored their 
confidence, and equanimity, and called forth shouts of 
"Vive Lafayette!" 

. In the assembly, even they who had been opposed to 
Lafayette on party grounds, indignantly repelled the 
suspicions that had been thrown out against him, and 
called upon all to unite in sustaining him in this difficult 
and alarming crisis. This generous sentiment was re- 
sponded to on all sides, with a truly French enthusiasm. 
A deputation was instantly selected from their own num- 
ber, with directions to proceed to the Hotel de Ville, 
and invite him, through fear of the violence of the pop- 
ulace, to come under escort to the assembly. The depu- 
tation, on their arrival, found him as high in favor as 
ever. To their suggestion of an escort, he replied, " I 



PLIGHT OF THE KING. 247 

will order one for you, as a mark of respect ; but, for 
myself, I shall return alone. I have never been in more 
perfect safety than at this moment, the streets being filled 
with the people," 

Immediately on being apprized of the flight of the 
king, Lafayette had despatched two of his most trusty 
and efBcient aids, to overtake, if possible, and bring him 
back. They were arrested by the mob, as they were pass- 
ing out of the city, and hurried back to the assembly as 
enemies of the state. The assembly, receiving them 
with confidence, and heartily approving the plans of their 
general, sent them immediately off, with a suitable guard 
for their protection. The king was arrested at Varennes, 
before they came up with him. They accompanied him 
on his return to Paris, and were the means of saving the 
lives of some of his friends. 

The part which Lafayette took in the measures adopt- 
ed for the arrest of the king, tended greatly to increase 
the dislike of the queen, and consequently to widen the 
breach between him and the whole royal family. But it 
was by his interposition alone, that they were protected 
from violence on their return. When the escort entered 
the city, Lafayette hastened to meet it. During his ab- 
sence, on this errand, an immense crowd had gathered 
about the Tuileries. No violence or insult was offered 
to the king, or to any one of the royal family. They 
were received in silence, without any of the customary 
royal honors, the flight having been regarded by the con- 
stitutionalists as an act of abdication. But the soldiers 
who aided their escape, and who now accompanied them 
on their return, seated on the box of the king's carriage, 
were made the especial objects of the people's fury. The 
queen, anxious for their safety and well aware of the in- 
fluence of Lafayette with the people, no sooner saw him 
approach than she exclaimed, "General Lafayette, save 



248 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

the life-guards." The general immediately took them by 
the hand, and led them to a place of safety within the pal- 
ace. The royal family, having entered immediately after, 
Lafayette presented himself at the door of the king's apart- 
ment, saying respectfully, " Has your majesty any orders 
for me 1" To which the king replied, with a smile, " It 
appears to me that I am more under your orders than 
you are under mine." Lafayette then respectfully an- 
nounced to him the decree of the assembly, suspending 
him from his functions, as king, and placing a guard 
over his person. The king testified no displeasure, or 
excitement at this, but the queen was greatly agitated 
and vexed. Affecting to regard him as their jailer, she 
petulantly urged him to take the keys of the desks, which 
had been left in the carriage. The general replied that 
no person thought, or would think, of disturbing the 
privacy of those desks. The queen then placed the keys 
on his hat. Lafayette requested her to pardon the trou- 
ble he gave her of taking back those keys, declaring that 
he would not touch them. "Well," said the queen, im- 
patiently, " I shall find persons less scrupulous than 
yourself." Though this was said tauntingly, and with 
bitterness, the queen was aware that it was no more 
complimentary than true. 

France was now virtually a state without a king, for, 
in suspending Louis XVI. from the exercise of royal 
power, the assembly had made no provision for, or recog- 
nition of, a successor. Lafayette, as commander-in-chief 
of the National Guards of the metropolis, and possessing 
the entire confidence of the assembly and the people, 
was the most conspicuous and powerful man in France, 
exercising, in effect, without the title or prerogatives 
of viceroy, or regent, the chief executive functions. 
And nobly did he sustain the trying position, holding, 
by his energy, decision, and unwavering consistency, an 



FLIGHT OP THE KINO. 249 

even balance between the enemies of popular liberty on 
the one hand, and the disturbers of public order on the 
other. His duty as special guardian of the king, he dis- 
charged with no less delicacy to the prisoners than fidelity 
to the state. Whenever a rigorous measure was suscep- 
tible of two interpretations, he always adopted the most 
humane one ; and even took upon himself the responsi- 
bility of modifying, in many particulars, the system of 
surveillance ordained by the assembly and its committees. 
But France was not a republic, though the Jacobins 
made the most vigorous and determined efforts to make 
it so. It was a monarchy without a monarch, and meas- 
ures were soon taken to restore the sovereignty. These 
measures were violently opposed by the radical party, 
and a great riot ensued in the Champ de Mars, where 
immense numbers had assembled, under the direction of 
Robespierre, Petion, and others, to protest against the 
king. He was restored, notwithstanding, and Lafayette 
was sent to quell the tumult. Hastening to the spot, he 
broke down the barricades, which they had already be- 
gun to throw up, and dashed into the midst of the insur- 
gents, commanding them instantly to disperse. Too 
much excited to submit without an effort, they instantly 
turned upon their assailant, and threatened his life if he 
persisted in his attempt to disturb their proceedings. 
Never daunted, when duty was before him, he sternly 
reiterated his order to disperse. At that moment, one 
of the crowd, in a paroxysm of rage, raised a musket, 
and fired, the muzzle almost touching the general's head. 
By a singular interposition of Providence, he escaped 
this danger, and soon after succeeded in persuading the 
people to retire from the scene. The man who had at- 
tempted his life was arrested by the National Guards, but 
immediately set at liberty by Lafayette. He was severely 
censured by the ultra-popular party, for the part he took 



250 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

in subduing this movement, and from that time had as 
many bitter enemies among the revolutionists, as he had 
hitherto had among the aristocracy ; although he was al- 
most the only tiTie friend of the people, who looked alone 
to the good of the whole nation, and who was ever ready, 
at any sacrifice to himself, to repair, as far as was possi- 
ble, the inevitable evils of political revolution. This was 
manifest, and this was cordially acknowledged, when, a 
short time after, on the announcement by the king of his 
acceptance of the constitution, the man of the people 
came forward with a cup of Lethean water for past 
troubles, proposing a general amnesty for political of- 
fences. The proposition was adopted by acclamation, 
and the prison-doors were thrown open, amid the shouts 
of the people, and the songs of the liberated. The 
same decree abolished the use of passports, and allowed 
every citizen to go and come at his own pleasure. 

Wherever the cause of liberty and the rights of man 
were brought in question, the name of Lafayette was a 
watchword, and his counsel and influence were eagerly 
sought. The leaders of the revolution in Belgium, and 
the promoters of an independent administration in Cor- 
sica, looked up to him as a guide and friend, and found 
in him a prudent and sagacious adviser. In the early 
part of their struggle, he proposed to enter the Batavian 
service. The ministry opposed his wish and prevented 
it. He was solicited to go to the aid of Ireland, and 
would have gone, but for the interference of the French 
government, and the concessions of England. At that 
time, he was free to act where the cause of liberty and 
humanity demanded his services ; but now, as a French- 
man, intrusted with the most important command in her 
national army, as well as with the lofty function of a le- 
gislator in her constitutional assembly, he could render no 
personal aid. He commended their cause to the favora- 



FLIGHT OF THE KING. 251 

ble regard of the assembly and the king, and encouraged 
them to proceed with moderation, and a constant rever- 
ence for law and order, but i-efused any movement in their 
behalf, which any other citizen might not with propriety 
have made. The establishment of the Batavian republic 
received his hearty approval, as a citizen, and his able 
counsel and generous zeal were duly appreciated and 
acknowledged by its founders. In reply to one of the 
letters from the president of " the sovereign congress," 
he said : " You have condescended, gentlemen, to cor- 
respond with me, though I have, in this respect, no other 
character than that of a friend of liberty. Permit me, 
then, in virtue of that title, in consideration of my con- 
cern for the union and prosperity of the Belgians, and 
for the cessation of intestine divisions, to include my- 
self in the number of those who regard the liberation of 
General Vander Meersch,* as the first and indispensable 
means of accomplishing those wishes that ought to ani- 
mate every patriotic breast." 

On the dissolution of the constitutional assembly, and 
the seeming establishment of a constitutional govern- 
ment, Lafayette resigned his commission, as command- 
ant of the National Guards, relinquishing at the same 
time all military rank and power, and retired to his quiet 
residence in the country. He had asked nothing for 
himself, and, when his great work of self-sacrificing 
patriotism was accomplished, he immediately sought the 
reward of his labors, and the peace he so ardently loved, 
in the bosom of his family. He caiTied with him to his 
retirement, the homage and regret of his companions in 
arms, the grateful regards of the people, and the respect, 
if not the entire confidence, of all parties. They who 

* An officer in the Belgian service, imprisoned for political motives. 
Lafayette had no confideuce in liherty which did not include freedom of 
thought and speech. 



252 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

had most earnestly opposed him, could say nothing worse 
of him than Mirabeau and others of the same class had 
always felt, that he was too honest and too pure for the 
exigencies of the times. There was not a man in France, 
of any name or party, who concentrated in his own per- 
son so much of public confidence and private regard, as 
Lafayette. 

His journey from Paris to Chavagniac was a continual 
succession of triumphs. The municipal council of Paris 
voted him an emblematic medal, and a marble statue of 
Washington, and ordered the decree conferring these 
marks of approbation, to be inscribed on the bust of La- 
fayette, which had been presented to the capital, twelve 
years before, by the state of Virginia. The National 
Guards of Paris at the same time voted him a sword, 
made from the bolts of the Bastile, and sent it by the 
hands of a committee, to his retreat. He was nomina- 
ted and strongly supported, as a candidate for the mayor- 
alty of Paris ; but the influence and money of the court 
defeated him. With that obstinate blindness to his true 
interests, which was a sort of fatality with the king, he 
made great pecuniary sacrifices to prevent the election 
of Lafayette, his true, sincere, and steadfast friend, and 
thus secured the elevation of Petion, a cold, heartless, 
determined enemy, an ultra- Jacobin, the very man, who, 
on their return from their attempted flight, had cruelly 
and shamelessly insulted both the king and the queen in 
their own carriage, and who paved their way, with his 
then unprincipled and heartless associates, from the 
throne to the temple, and from the temple to the guillo- 
tine. 



THREATENED INVASION OF FRANCE. 253 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THREATENED INVASION OF FRANCE LAFAYETTE IN COM- 
MAND OF THE ARMY. 

Lafayette did not long enjoy the luxury of home, nor 
the feeble hope which he might have been disposed to in- 
dulge, that the struggles of France vv^ere over, and her 
regeneration accomplished. Great numbers of the no- 
bility, disgusted and alarmed by the progress of the rev- 
olution, had emigrated to various parts of Europe, but 
principally to the states adjoining their own country. 
Their property had been heavily taxed, as a penalty for 
their absence, and a decree had been passed, perempto- 
rily requiring them to return. Many of them were now 
disposed to return, but not in the manner proposed by 
the assembly. They had made interest with some of the 
continental powers, with a view to entering France, at 
the head of a large araiy, and putting down the revolu- 
tion at the point of the bayonet. Some considerable 
numbers of them were already in arms, in several places, 
and rumor followed rumor of extensive and alarming 
preparations for invasion. 

Measures were instantly adopted to repel the antici- 
pated movement. The king, with great apparent sin- 
cerity and earnestness, went hand in hand with the as- 
sembly in these measures, declaring any man an enemy 
of France, who should pass the frontier wit^h hostile in- 
tent. An army was immediately raised, and Lafayette 
22 



254 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

was summoned from his retreat to command the centre, 
comprising fifty thousand men, with his headquarters at 
Metz. Associated with him were Rochambeau, com- 
manding the army of the north, in Flanders, and Luck- 
ner, with the southern division, at Alsace. The appoint- 
ment of Lafayette to this command was hailed with 
rapturous applause by the people ; but when offered for 
confirmation, in council, the king objected. " If your 
majesty does not appoint him to-day," said the minister 
Narbonne, " the national wish will force you to do so 
to-morrow." All the ministers were of the same opin- 
ion, and the king yielded to their advice. Lafayette 
immediately obeyed the call of his country, and pre- 
sented himself before the assembly, where he was re- 
ceived with the utmost cordiality. The president, on 
handing him his commission, said : " The French peo- 
ple, who have sworn to conquer or die for liberty, will 
ever present, with confidence, to nations and to tyrants, 
the constitution and Lafayette.''^ Crowds of enthusiastic 
citizens hailed him in all the streets. Battalions of the 
National G-uard escorted him out of the city toward the 
scene of his new command, while the ceaseless vivats 
of the people, who followed him on his way, testified the 
respect and affection with which he was regarded. 

Rochambeau and Luckner were officers of the old 
school, accustomed to the strictest system of military 
discipline, and to regarding an army as a mere assem- 
blage of animated automata, subject to the sway of one 
despotic will. To them, the citizen-soldier, with his 
right of opinion, and his prerogative of private judg- 
ment, was not a fitting instrument of warfare. Lafay- 
ette, trained in the American school, and accustomed to 
that kind of discipline which is suited to freemen, was 
quite in his element. Young, active, and ambitious to 
distinguish himself in the defence of his country, he im- 



COMMANDS THE ARMY. 255 

mecliately introduced and established the most efficient 
discipline among his troops ; overcoming, by his urban- 
ity, decision, and ingenuousness, all the difficulties raised 
by the ill-will of his subordinates, who were chiefly from 
the aristocracy of the army. He also introduced two 
companies of mounted artillery, such as he had seen in 
Prussia, and other improvements to increase the effi- 
ciency of his division. 

War was now the all-absorbing topic. Without break- 
ing down the distinctions of party, or neutralizing the 
bitterness of private dissension, it turned all eyes in one 
direction, and united all heads and hearts in one com- 
mon object. WTiatever views the different factions might 
entertain in regard to the internal affairs of the nation, it 
was the dictate of universal patriotism to defend the coun- 
try from foreign aggi'ession. The ultra-Jacobins, with 
Robespierre at their head, were the least ardent of all the 
factions in support of the war. Their great fear was, 
that it would afford too many advantages for Lafayette 
to strengthen his position, and perhaps, ultimately, pro- 
cure for him the supreme power, in the form of a mili- 
tary dictatorship. They had no confidence in the good 
intentions of the king, and supposed that, as soon as he 
could do it with safety to himself, he would declare 
against the revolution, and avail himself of foreign aid 
at hand to restore him to his ancient sovereignty. They 
were equally suspicious of Lafayette. Measuring him 
by their own standard of virtue, they never doubted that 
he would seek his own private interests, to the exclusion 
of all others ; and his moderation, prudence, and unas- 
sailable integrity, were an insuperable bar to the prog- 
ress of their sweeping reforms. 

This war, though commenced as one of defence only, 
soon assumed an offensive character. An attack on 
Belgium was contemplated, as the first gi'eat movement. 



256 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

That country, then under the dominion of Austria, had re- 
cently manifested a revolutionary spirit, and it was sup- 
posed that the great body of the people would cordially 
welcome a French array, that would release them from 
the yoke of their old masters. The execution of this 
movement was intrusted to Lafayette. He was ordered, 
first, to advance with ten thousand men, from Givet to 
Namur, and from Namur to Liege, or Brussels. He 
was to be followed immediately by the whole division. 
While he was executing this movement, Lieutenant- 
General Biron was to set out from Valenciennes, with 
ten thousand men, and march upon Mons. Another di- 
vision was to proceed to Toumay, with orders to secure 
possession of it immediately. These secondary move- 
ments were intended, principally, to support and mask 
the real one committed to Lafayette's charge. 

The movements above described were ordered to be 
made during the last ten days of May. Biron soon 
made himself master of Q,uievrain, and, proceeding to 
Mons, found a few hostile detachments dravsoi up to op- 
pose him. Suddenly, in the midst of their march, two 
regiments of dragoons, not then in the presence of the 
enemy, cried out, " We are betrayed !" and instantly 
betook themselves to flight. The whole *army, as if 
struck with sudden panic, followed them, unmoved alike 
by the commands, entreaties, and threats, of their offi- 
cers. The deserted camp, with all its paraphernalia and 
stores, fell into the hands of the enemy. 

Another division, of three thousand men, who were to 
start from Lille, conducted in the same shameful and 
cowardly manner ; the cavalry, as before, taking the 
lead, and compelling the infantry to accompany them. 
Theobald Dillon, their commander, and one of his offi- 
cers, were murdered, while attempting to arrest their 
flight. 



COMMANDS THE ARMY. 257 

In tlie meantime, Lafayette, by forced and difficult 
marches over almost impassable roads, had proceeded 
as far as Givet — a distance of one hundred and seventy 
miles, which he achieved in the incredibly short space 
of five days — before he was apprized of these serious 
disasters. Justly deeming that there was concerted trea- 
son at the bottom of this twofold desertion, and im- 
pressed with the conviction that it originated with his 
personal enemies, he thought it prudent to halt for a 
time, and protect himself as well against " the enemy in 
his rear," as against the one in advance. 

It was manifest to all that there was treason in the 
camp ; but none, save the few who plotted it, could di- 
vine its object, or tell whence it proceeded. The army 
was not to be relied upon. Lafayette felt perfect reli- 
ance upon his division, not only from what they had al- 
ready done, but from their personal attachment to him- 
self; but, unaided by the other divisions, it would have 
been worse than madness to think of advancing, in the 
face of all Europe. 

Agitations the most violent and alarming, discussions 
the most bitter, ensued at Paris and throughout France. 
Party was armed against party, and faction against fac- 
tion ; each suspected, hated, and feared the other. All, 
or nearly all, suspected and hated, though few feared, 
the king. Poor, unfortunate man ! On his devoted head 
were about to be poured all the vials of popular wrath 
and political madness. So long overshadowed by the 
dark and terrible incubus of the throne, the revolution- 
ists had succeeded in overturning and demolishing it, 
leaving in its place the mere form and title of a king, 
whose crown was not his own, and whose seat was the 
common footstool of the sovereign people. The throne 
was only the shadow of what it once was ; but yet the 
shadow was as much feared and hated, as the substance 
22* 



258 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

had formerly been. The malignity of the factions was 
beginning to be directed from the king to the man — 
from Louis XVI. to Louis. 

Through all his adversities, Lafayette had maintained 
toward the king, not only the allegiance of an upright, 
true-hearted subject, and an intelligent citizen, who re- 
garded a king as the most proper executive for France, 
but the devotion of a sincere, self-sacrificing friend ; and, 
though rejected and kept at arm's length, by the personal 
dislike of the queen, he still continued, through every 
change, to exert all his influence and power to save 
them. In the present exigency, when to come to the 
rescue of the throne was to rush at once upon the bayo- 
nets of the army, the sword of the assassin, and the mines 
of all the intriguing politicians of the nation, he stood 
forth boldly and openly, and advocated his cause. He 
did more. Alone and single-handed, he went into the 
midst of the people, and demanded justice for the king, 
and a guaranty for the integrity of the constitution. 

His first act was, from his camp before a foreign ene- 
my, to address a letter to the assembly. In this letter, 
he frankly and fearlessly expressed his sentiments rela- 
tive to the king and the constitution, and his disapproba- 
tion of any measure which tended to attack or injure 
either of them. He declared that the public cause was 
in danger — that the fate of France depended on her 
representatives — that the nation looked up to them for 
deliverance, v/hile, by giving a constitution, she had pre- 
scribed to them the means by which they were to secure 
her safety. 

He then openly denounced the efforts of the Jacobins, 
whom he described as " domestic enemies, intoxicated 
with fanaticism or pride, and cherishing the most chi- 
merical hopes." He claimed the right thus to denounce 
them, as inherent and inalienable. " I will not be pre- 



LETTER TO THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 259 

vented," said lie, "from exercising tins right of a free- 
man, and fulfilling this duty of a citizen, either by mo- 
mentary errors of opinion — for what are opinions which 
depart from principles 1 — or by my respect for the rep- 
resentatives of the people, for I respect still more the 
people themselves, whose constitution is the supreme 
law — or by the regard which you have always shown 
me, for I wish to preserve that regard, as I obtained it, 
by an inflexible attachment to liberty." 

He charged upon the Jacobin clubs all the disorders 
of the times. " Organized like a separate power, in its 
source and its ramifications, blindly directed by a few 
ambitious leaders, that faction forms a distinct corpora- 
tion in the midst of the French people, whose power it 
usui'ps by subduing its representatives and agents." 

In terms equally bold and direct, he charged them 
with openly trampling on law, eulogizing and promo- 
ting every species of public crime, preaching insubordi- 
nation to the army, and scattering, broadcast, the seeds 
of discontent and discouragement. He earnestly depre- 
cated the growing influence and dictatorial power of 
such a faction over the National Assembly, who were 
responsible to the people, and not to a party ; and con- 
jured them, by their love of liberty and of France, to 
resume fearlessly, and maintain manfully, their constitu- 
tional functions. He contended that the power of the 
crown must remain inviolate and undiminished, for it was 
guarantied by the constitution ; and independent, because 
that independence was one of the springs of liberty — 
that the king should be revered, because he was invested 
with the majesty of the nation ; and he expressed the 
earnest hope that he would select a ministry which should 
not wear the chains of faction. 

" Lastly, let the reign of the clubs give way to the 
reign of law ; their usurpations to the firm and inde- 



260 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

pendent exercise of the constituted authorities ; their 
disorganizing maxims to the principles of liberty ; their 
insensate fury to the calm and constant courage of a na- 
tion which knows its rights and defends them." 

" This," says Thiers, " was saying to exasperated pas- 
sions, * Stop !' — to the parties themselves, * Put an end to 
your own existence!' — to a torrent, 'Cease to flow !' 
But, though the advice was useless, it was not less a 
duty to give it." It was highly applauded by some ; by 
others, received in that sullen silence which indicates 
both fear and dislike. 

An animated discussion ensued. Vergniaud objected, 
that the assembly could not receive the lecture of an 
armed general, without endangering that very liberty 
which Lafayette had hitherto so ably defended ; to which 
Thevenot replied, that the assembly ought to receive, 
from the lips of Lafayette, truths which it had not the 
courage to announce to itself. The power of the appeal, 
and the influence of the name under which it was pre- 
sented, were so deeply felt, that there seemed to be no 
antidote to its effect, but to deny its authenticity. It was 
accordingly suggested that the letter was a forgery, and 
that the name of Lafayette was employed only to give 
weight to the sentiments of a royalist. " Impossible !" 
exclaimed M. Coube. " Even if it were not signed, none 
but Lafayette could have written it." M. Guadet as- 
serted that the letter could not have come from Lafay- 
ette, because it adverted to the dismissal of Dumouriez, 
though dated on the same day on which the dismissal 
took place. " Either the signature is not his," he said, 
" or it was attached to a blank, which was left for a fac- 
tion to fill up at its pleasure." 

A great uproar followed these words. " M. Lafayette 
is incapable," resumed Guadet, " according to his known 
sentiments, of having written such a letter. He must 



LETTER TO THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 261 

know, that when Cromwell — " Dumas, unable to re- 
strain his indignation at this allusion, endeavored to speak. 
There was great agitation in the assembly. Guadet, 
however, retained his ground, and attempted to speak. 
** I was saying — " but he was again interrupted. " You 
were at Cromwell," said one of the members. ** I shall 
return to him," he replied. " I was saying, that Lafay- 
ette must know, that when Cromwell held a similar lan- 
guage, liberty was lost in England. It is expedient, 
either that we ascertain whether some coward has not 
sheltered himself beneath the name of Lafayette, or 
prove, by a signal example, to the French people, that 
we have not taken a vain oath in swearing to maintain 
the constitution." 

Such was the power of Lafayette's name at this cri- 
sis — such the confidence of his friends, and the fear of 
his enemies. No one individual in France concentrated 
in his own person so many of the real elements of pow- 
er, public confidence, and private regard, as he did ; and 
it now became as necessary for the evil disposed to de- 
stroy him, as to get rid of the king. He was violently 
attacked in the clubs, in the newspapers, and in all 
the public meetings of the people, till the masses, 
who were led by the noisy harangues of unprincipled 
men, came to believe that he, in whom they had so 
long confided, was indeed a traitor to his country, and a 
friend of despotism. The excitement became deeper 
and more intense than it had ever been. France was 
the crater of an overheated volcano, on the eve of an 
eruption. Lafayette, without having changed his posi- 
tion in the least, was now regarded as belonging to the 
court and the aristocrats, and denounced as a traitor. His 
supposed defection increased the fear and hatred of those 
who would demolish the throne ; so that his able and 
honest effort to sustain the king, only increased the diffi- 



262 I-IFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

culties that surrounded him. So gi'eat was the excite- 
ment, that a mob of the most violent and degraded of 
the people, breaking over all the bounds of law and 
decency, burst into the palace, offered the grossest in- 
sults to the royal family, and threatened personal vio- 
lence to the king. 

Nothing daunted by the danger which threatened him 
in this new crisis, Lafayette resolved to go in person to 
Paris, to repeat and confirm the sentiments of his letter 
of the 16th of June, and to do all in his power to recall 
the nation to the path of liberty and glory, on which it 
had first set out. He counted on the fidelity of the 
National Gruard, and hoped to impart to it a new impulse 
of patriotic devotion. He counted on the support of the 
court, which he could not believe to be his enemy, when 
he came to sacrifice himself in its defence. Having 
proved his chivalrous love of liberty, he was now re- 
solved to prove his sincere attachment to the king ; and, 
in his heroic enthusiasm, it is probable that his heart was 
not insensible to the glory of this twofold self-devotion. 
He arrived on the morning of the 28th of June, twelve 
days after the date of his letter to the assembly. The 
news of his arrival soon spread, and it was everywhere 
repeated with surprise and curiosity, that General La- 
fayette was in Paris. 

On that day, the hall of the assembly was thronged 
with multitudes of people, in anxious expectation to 
learn the object of the general's visit. A little past 
noon, having requested admission to the bar of the 
house, he made his appearance, and was received with 
applause by one side, and with silence by the other. 
With that calmness and dignity which always character- 
ized his manner, he rose and addressed the assembly ; 
first assuring them that, before leaving the army, he had 
made all needful arrangements for its protection and 



APPEARS AT THE BAR OF THE ASSEMBLY. 263 

order during his absence, and then explaining, in a few 
words, his motives in coming. 

Wlien he concluded, he was invited to take his seat 
with the assembly. Objections being made, accompa- 
nied by confused cries of " Yes" and " No," from differ- 
ent parts of the house, the general modestly took his seat 
on a bench allotted to petitioners. Guadet then rose, 
and, with bitter irony, inquired if the enemies of France 
were vanquished, and the country delivered from the 
threatened invasion. ''No!" he exclaimed in reply; 
''the country is not delivered ; our situation is not chang- 
ed ; and yet the general of one of our armies is in Par- 
is." He then proceeded severely to censure Lafayette, 
and to propose an inquiry into his right to leave the 
army, without a special order from the minister of war, 
or to address the assembly on purely political subjects. 

From the charges insinuated in this proposition, the 
general was ably and eloquently vindicated by M. Ra- 
mond. ""WTien, but a few days ago," said he, "an 
armed multitude presented itself in this hall, it was not 
asked what was its errand; it was not reproached with 
infringing, by the parade of arms, the independence of 
the assembly. But when M. de Lafayette, who is for 
America and for Europe the standard of liberty — when 
he presents himself, suspicions are awakened ! If there 
are two weights and two measures — if there are two 
ways of considering things, let it be allowable to make 
some distinction in favor of the eldest son of liberty r 
He then proposed to refer the matter to a special com- 
mittee, to examine, not the conduct of Lafayette, which 
was above suspicion, but the petition he had presented. 
This motion was carried ; and Lafayette left the hall, 
amid the congratulations of the friends of order, and fol- 
lowed by a large train of National Guards, who could 
not repress, even in the presence of the national legisla- 



264 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ture, tlieir sentiments of respect and aiFection for their 
old commander. 

From the assembly Lafayette proceeded to the palace, 
to pay his respects to the king, and to renew the offer of 
his services. It was the capital crisis in the affairs of 
Louis XVL, the last turning point in his destiny. If he 
had, even at that late hour, received Lafayette into his 
confidence, and intrusted to him and his friends the 
general guidance of his affairs, the tide of Jacobin an- 
archy which was about to sweep away the throne and 
desolate France, might have been turned back, and the 
constitutional monarchy established on a permanent ba- 
sis. But the prejudices of the queen were not yet over- 
come. Lafayette was received with open abuse by the 
courtiers, and with repulsive coldness by the king. The 
royal family were together. The king and queen both 
repeated that there was no safety but in the constitution, 
and that it must be supported at all hazards. And yet 
they rejected with severity the only man who had been 
always and consistently devoted to it and to them, and 
who, at that very moment, was hazarding, not his popu- 
larity only, but his life, in their defence. It had been 
appointed that the king should review four thousand men 
of the National Gruards, on the morning of the next day. 
Lafayette asked permission to accompany him, at the 
same time declaring his intention to address the troops, 
as soon as his majesty should have retired. And he 
hoped to make it the occasion of renewing their devotion 
to the constitution and the king. This proposal was not 
directly negatived, but its purpose was thwarted through 
a blind fear that Lafayette would gain some advantage 
to himself, by an order from Petion, the mayor, counter- 
manding the review, at a very early hour in the morning. 

On leaving the Tuileries, a numerous concourse of 
people escorted him to his residence, shouting, " Long 



RETURNS TO THE ARMY. 265 

live Lafayette !" In their enthusiasm they even planted 
a liberty-pole at his gate. 

These demonstrations of popular attachment, con- 
trasting strongly with the jealousy of the court, and the 
virulent hatred of the Jacobins, deeply affected the gen- 
eral, and inspired him with some hope that all was not 
yet lost. It created, moreover, a new alarm among the 
factions. 

Always open and frank, and preferring the boldest 
courses to any species of intrigue, Lafayette proposed 
to his friends, that the clubs, the strongholds of the an- 
archists, and the very caldrons of political agitation and 
corruption, should be violently broken up and dispersed. 
He appointed a meeting for this purpose. But few had 
the courage to attend, and the project was necessarily 
abandoned. The Jacobins, however, knowing his reso- 
lution and zeal, and fearing he might be supported by 
numbers too great for them to oppose, were seized with 
panic, and abandoned their clubs for the time. 

Amid denunciations, threats, and hints of assassination, 
Lafayette remained another day in Paris, making fear- 
less but fruitless endeavors to accomplish the object he 
had so much at heart. Then, finding all his zeal and 
self-devotion unavailing, and lamenting the fatal obsti- 
nacy of the king, who would not suffer himself to be 
saved, he reluctantly returned to his camp, to await the 
fearful issue. He even then entertained dark forebo- 
dings of the future, though he could not have imagined 
the utter blackness of darkness which that future ulti- 
mately revealed. He had freely exposed himself and 
his fortune to save the state, and was ready, as fi'eely, to 
consummate the oblation, to attain the end. He had 
braved, openly and boldly, the fury of his enemies, to 
rescue the king from their grasp. But his offering was 
not accepted. He was basely calumniated by the court, 
23 



266 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

and even accused Aif having betrayed the king. His 
w^ant of success, vs^hich was owing only to the absence 
of co-operation on the part of the court, was made an 
argument against him. Under these painful and inaus- 
picious circumstances, he left the metropolis for the army, 
doubtful in what manner he should return, and destined 
to an absence of many long unhappy years. 

But the temperament of Lafayette, as that of a gen- 
erous and unsuspecting nature always is, was ever hope- 
ful. He never abandoned a good purpose, so long as 
there was even a slight chance of accomplishing it. 
Though in a manner driven from the palace, and refused 
the hospitality of the city, he still cherished the design 
of rescuing the king from the hands of those who sought 
his blood, as the only means of extinguishing his title 
and power. Almost any other man would have aban- 
doned the obstinate court to its fate. But Lafayette's 
patriotism was proof against coldness, distrust, and cal- 
umny, on the one hand, as well as against the specious 
arguments of the designing and crafty, on the other. 
He consulted only his own honest and true heart, re- 
solved that the king should be saved in spite of himself, 
and immediately formed a plan for getting him away 
from Paris, where he was only a state-prisoner, without 
the ordinary guaranty of safety to his person, and with 
little prospect of any other release than that of death. 

Meanwhile, the danger of invasion grew daily more 
and more imminent ; and daily, as the allies were sup- 
posed to be approaching, suspicions of the king increased. 
In the assembly he was openly charged with inviting in- 
vasion, and a decree of dethronement was boldly pro- 
posed and discussed. 

The plan of removing the king from Paris was one 
of infinite difficulty and danger. Lafayette caused it to 
be communicated to the king by Lally Tolendal, who 



PLAN FOR RESCUING THE KING. 267 

freely pledged himself for the sincerity and fidelity of 
the general. He had gained over General Luckner, who 
commanded one division of the army, and who promised 
all that was desired. It was proposed that the king 
sliould summon the two generals to Paris, to take part 
in the gi'eat festival of the Federation, on the 14th of 
July. On the 15th, the king, accompanied byLafayette, 
was to have gone to the assembly, and announced his 
intention of spending some days at Compeigne. On his 
arrival there, with a small escort of Parisian National 
Guards, he was to be furnished with a trusty body- 
guard, composed of a detachment of the Compeigne 
militia, and two regiments of chasseurs from Lafayette's 
division, associated with the escort from Paris — the whole 
to be commanded by Brigadier-General Latour Mau- 
bourg. Thus surrounded, and sheltered from all vio- 
lence, in a situation of his own choice, the king would, 
of his own accord, have issued his proclamation, forbid- 
ding his brothers to advance a step, declaring any who 
should invade the French territory enemies and traitors, 
and announcing his intention, if the assembly approved, 
to go in person against them. He would, at the same 
time, have pronounced in favor of the constitution, in 
such terms as should leave his enemies no room to doubt 
his sincerity. 

Such was the plan of Lafayette, and such a step, fully 
earned out, would probably have enabled Louis to re- 
turn to Paris, amid the universal acclamations of the 
people, with power to consolidate the constitutional 
monarchy. But such a triumph would have been the 
triumph of liberty, and therefore the court declined it. 
They were not willing to accept deliverance from La- 
fayette. " It would be too bad," said the queen to 
Madam Elizabeth, the king's sister, " that we should bo 
twice indebted to him for our lives." 



268 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE REIGN OP TERROR. 

Some of the king's personal friends left no means un- 
tried, to inspire him with confidence in Lafayette. They 
conjured him to comply with the counsels of the only 
man who could snatch him from destruction. But those 
of them who, unfortunately, had most influence in the 
palace, saw no chance for absolute royalty, save in anar- 
chy and foreign invasion. Lafayette was requited with 
cold and formal thanks for his plan, which was rejected 
as impracticable ; and when his aide, Colombo, afterward 
asked the queen by what strange infatuation she and the 
king had come to so fatal a decision, she replied, " We 
are very grateful to your general ; but the best thing 
that could happen to us would be, to be confined for two 
months in a tower !" At the same moment when these 
heartless thanks were offered, and while Lafayette was 
projecting the only feasible plan for saving the royal 
family from immolation, it was known to him that me- 
morials, full of the bitterest personal abuse, were, by the 
queen's orders, composed against him, and that a portion 
of the libels, daily devoted to his defamation, were paid 
for out of the civil list. 

In unfolding his plan to Lally-Tolendal, Lafayette 
remarked, in reference to the gathering storm, " I see a 
series of dangers commencing immediately after the 14th. 
T again repeat it : the king must leave Paris ! I know 



THE REIGN OF TERROR. 269 

that, were he not sincere, this course would be attended 
with inconveniences ; but when the question is about 
trustino: the kino:, who is an honest man, can one hesi- 
tate a moment ]....! consider it a sacred duty to be 
near the king on this occasion I find myself sur- 
rounded by inhabitants of the country, who come ten 
leagues and more to see me, and to swear that they have 
confidence in none but me, and that my enemies are 
theirs. I find myself beloved by the army, on which the 
Jacobin efforts have no influence. I see testimonies of 
adherence to my opinions arriving from all parts of the 
kingdom ; and I can not believe that all is lost, and that 
I have no means of being serviceable." 

When, in composing his singular and most unworthy 
reply to this generous proposal, the king declared that 
"he was infinitely sensible to the attachment which 
would induce him [Lafayette] to put himself thus in the 
front," he uttered the true sentiments of his own good 
heart, which, had he trusted and followed them, would 
have saved him, and his house, and France. But when, 
in concluding his letter, he said, " The best advice which 
can be given to M. Lafayette is, to continue to serve as 
a bugbear to the factions, by the able performance of 
his duty as a general," he only made himself the organ 
of all the littleness of an intriguing court and an impe- 
rious queen, whose influence ultimately prevailed to 
divert the king from the course which his own heart and 
conscience would have suggested. The proverbial ir- 
resolution and fickleness of Louis XVI. was not so much 
owing to a native imbecility of character, as to that ami- 
able weakness which yielded an undue ascendency to 
an ambitious wife, whom he ardently loved and perfectly 
trusted. 

Foiled in this patiiotic and loyal purpose, Lafayette 
conceived the yet bolder design of marching his army 
23* 



270 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

to Paris, putting down, at the point of the bayonet, the 
factions which were distracting the counsels of the na- 
tion, and establishing, by force, the constitution of the 
people. He well knew that a large majority of the na- 
tion had decided in its favor, that the king was truly_ 
pledged to it, and that only a comparatively small num- 
ber of discontented anarchists, in Paris, opposed it. 
These he proposed to silence and crush, that the will 
of the people might be paramount, and the salvation of 
the country rendered certain. 

But the terrible crisis could not be averted. The 
oft'ers and plans of Lafayette, for the escape of Lou- 
is, and for overawing the capital, became known to 
the Jacobins, who immediately denounced him in the 
assembly, and raised such a storm of popular fury against 
him, in the metropolis, that he was not only openly and 
loudly anathematized in the streets, but absolutely burnt 
in effigy in the gardens of the Tuileries. The attempt 
to procure a decree of condemnation in the assembly 
failed by a large majority; but this only turned the tide 
of popular indignation against the assembly. All was 
uproar, consternation, and violence. The day of doom 
had arrived. Paris was probed to the core, and all the 
foul corruption, that had so long been festering there, 
oozed out upon the surface, and spread itself over the 
body politic. The cry, " To arms !" was heard on ev- 
ery side. The legislature and the law were set at open 
defiance. The palace was sacked by an infuriated mob ; 
the royal family were driven to take refuge in the hall 
of the assembly, and afterward shut up in a gloomy 
prison, to await a cruel death. The Swiss guards were 
massacred, and Paris made an Aceldama — a field of 
blood. All this was done in less than a month after 
the disinterested and generous offer of Lafayette, to 
shelter the king from the impending storm, had been 



THE KEIGN OF TERROR. 271 

rejected. The reign of teiTor had commenced. Its birth- 
day was the 10th of August, 1792. 

Wishing, amid the new dangers that now encompassed 
the dethroned and imprisoned king, to be nearer Paris, 
that he might more readily render any assistance which 
might be demanded, Lafayette was desirous of transfer- 
ring his command to the north. Unwilhng, however, to 
quit his own troops, by whom he was greatly beloved, 
and in whom he had entire confidence, he proposed to 
General Luckner to change positions. This was agreed 
to ; and Luckner, with his division, took post at Metz, 
while Lafayette repaired to Sedan. This brought him 
within two days' journey of the capital. 

The revolution was the work of the people of France. 
It was the necessary result of the progress of thought in 
an oppressed and burdened people. The reign of ter- 
ror could never have been conceived, or begotten, any- 
where but in Paris ; but it soon swept over the whole 
country. It overawed or pervaded the assembly, which 
was compelled to acknowledge, while it lasted, the su- 
premacy of such moral monsters as Petion, Robespierre, 
Danton, and Marat. But, even these were not able to 
procure a decree for the impeachment of Lafayette,though 
it was one of the first objects they sought to accomplish. 

An admirable comment on the principles and objects 
of the party which denounced him, was afi'orded in the 
fact that Brissot, who was the speaker on that occasion, 
declared that it was a mere party aff'air, and that " the 
man whom he denounced was the one whom, of all the 
world, he most highly esteemed." Their sense of his 
importance and influence was also exhibited in a per- 
fectly gratuitous announcement, in one of their journals, 
that he approved of the events of the 10th of August, 
and had caused them to be recognised by the army un- 
der his command. 



!972 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

The king having been dethroned, and a new constitu- 
tional substitute provided, commissioners v^ere immedi- 
ately sent to the several divisions of the army, to com- 
municate the decrees of the assembly, and to exact from 
the generals and their troops the new oath of allegiance. 
Lafayette, having notice of their approach, directed them 
to be arrested by the municipality of Sedan. They were 
, closely questioned by the mayor respecting the recent 
scenes of violence in the capital, and the sudden change 
of views and plans in the assembly. Deciding, from the 
account they gave, that the legislative assembly had been 
overawed by a lawless mob, that it was not free when it 
decreed the suspension of the royal authority, and that 
its commissioners were consequently only the envoys of 
a factious cabal, he ordered them to be arrested and con- 
fined, in the name of the constitution, as persons treason- 
ably designing to tamper with the loyalty of the army 
and the allegiance of the people. This was all done in 
pursuance of the instructions of Lafayette ; and he, al- 
ways ready to stand in the forefront of danger, assumed 
the sole responsibility, as military commander of the 
city. 

The commissioners, after their arrest, solicited a con- 
ference with the general, and proposed to him, in pursu- 
ance of instructions from their unprincipled superiors 
at Paris, to identify himself with the new order of things 
in the nation, by accepting the chief executive depart- 
ment of the government. They urged it upon him, as 
the first wish of the leaders, and certain to be acceptable 
to all parties and to the people, declaring that it only 
waited his decision, to be proclaimed to the nation and 
the world. The ofier was rejected with indignation, as 
similar ones had been several times before. The sole 
ambition of Lafayette was, that his country should be 
free and just, and he was resolved to be so himself, at all 



THE REIGN OF TERROR. 273 

hazards and at all sacrifices. He immediately caused 
his aiTny to renew their oath of fidelity to the king and 
the law, and ordered the same to be done by all the troops 
under his command. Expecting large support from the 
interior and remote departments, from many of which 
he had received the most ardent assurances of personal 
confidence, and of entire devotion to the principles of 
his celebrated letter to the assembly of the 16th of June, 
he purposed to attempt a decisive movement, to restore 
the constitution, and reinstate the assembly and the king 
in their legitimate authority. General Arthur Dillon, 
who was at Valenciennes, under the orders of Lafayette, 
obeyed his general-in-chief, caused the oath of fidelity 
to the law and to the king to be taken by the soldiers 
under his command, and used his influence to have it 
done by the entire aniiy. 

Luckner, at Metz, was surrounded by influences less 
favorable to loyalty. He wrote to Lafayette, conjuring 
him to guard well the commissioners, " whom he should 
not know what to do with, if they should find their way 
to his camp." His real sentiments coincided, in all re- 
spects, with those of Lafayette, as will be seen by his 
brief, soldier-like, but somewhat ludicrous address to his 
army on that occasion. It was written down on the spot 
by Romeuf, Lafayette's Aid, and is thus Anglicised by 
the hand of the general himself: — 

" Officers, unter-oflicers, soldiers : A feny creat acci- 
dent has just happent in Paris. Te enemy who are pe- 
fore us, I mock at tem ; but te enemy who are pehint 
us, I mock at tem not.* If money be give you, take 
eat; I mock at tat. Do not abanton me. I will nefer 
abanton you. 

" Officers, unter-officers, soldiers : Cheneral Fayette 

* The hero of Lundy's Lane had precedent for the only fear he was ever 
known to manifest. 



274 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

has put unter arrest two comraissioners, who come to 
put tisorder in his army. We shall soon have te same 
fisit. We will receif tem te same. Here is te aide-de- 
camp of Fayette, who bring me tis news, and who will 
tell Fayette te good tispositions of the soldiers of te army 
of old Luckner." 

When it was announced in Paris, that Lafayette had 
arrested the commissioners, and denied the authority of 
the assembly, it caused great excitement and alarm. It 
was the absorbing topic of the day. His immediate im- 
peachment was vehemently demanded, and the assembly 
was severely reproached for not having ordered it before. 
A decree was instantly passed against the department of 
Ardennes, but not against Lafayette. New commission- 
ers were despatched to the army, with the same powers 
as their predecessors, who were ordered to be immedi- 
ately liberated. Other commissioners were sent to Count 
Dillon's division for the same purpose. But this would 
not satisfy the factions. While Lafayette retained his 
post, they well knew he could neither be intimidated by 
decrees, nor driven by threats, to turn aside from the 
straight path of rectitude and loyalty. It was necessary 
to remove him from his command, in order to manage 
and control him. They accordingly pursued their ob- 
ject, until, on the 19th of August, they procured a decree 
of the assembly, declaring him a traitor to his country. 

His position was indeed anomalous and alarming. It 
was alarming to himself, as he was ignorant of the plans 
of his enemies, and the extent of their intrigues against 
him. It was most alarming to the political demagogues 
of the metropolis, whose factious violence had driven 
him to assume it, as they well knew his fearless inde- 
pendence, his unassailable integrity, and his popularity 
with the army and the country. Divided, as she then 
was, between the anarchists, who had now obtained as- 



THE REIGN OF TERROR. 275 

cendency in the assembly, and temporary control of what 
remained of the goverament, and the constitutionalists, 
who composed and commanded the anny, France was 
imminently exposed to invasion from without, and polit- 
ical revulsion within. If the army remained true to its 
oath, it could annihilate the factions at a blow, and re- 
store to the assembly that freedom of deliberation and 
action which it originally possessed, and without which 
it was merely the organ of every new despotism that 
aspired to control it. If, with Lafayette at its head, it 
should march to Paris, and replace the king on his throne, 
what but ostracism or death would remain for the Jaco- 
bins 1 With fearful apprehension, they waited the turn 
of the crisis. 

With no fear for himself, but with anxious solicitude 
for his country, Lafayette found himself surrounded with 
difficulties which he knew not how to surmount. To his 
view, the constitution was virtually abolished, and all the 
worst predictions of the court and the aristocracy real- 
ized. With that which was now transpiring he had all 
along been taunted by the queen and by his brother 
lordlings, who lamented the loss of their titles and pow- 
er, and longed for the restitution of the old despotism, 
that they might bask in its patronage. And not only so, 
but his hopes for the regeneration of France were based, 
not on destroying, but on reforming the government — 
not on taking down and removing the old fabric, but on 
accommodating it to the wants of an intelligent people. 
He foresaw clearly the consequences of the radical opin- 
ions and counsels then prevailing, and knew, from the 
genius of the French, which no man understood better 
than he, that they would overleap all bounds of safety, 
and react with terrible energy upon his ill-fated country. 
There was, apparently, but one way to prevent this ca- 
tastrophe, and secure for France those free institutions 



276 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

which should establish and perpetuate the liberty and 
happiness of the people. It was one which a Ceesar 
or a Napoleon might adopt, and, in pursuing it, in- 
volve the nation in civil war, and rear up for himself 
an imperial throne. But this was not the course for 
Lafayette. He sought nothing for himself; he desired 
only the happiness and glory of France. With such 
aims and such reflections, and with all the hoiTors of a 
civil war before him, he could not but hesitate ; he could 
not but waver in his course. This hesitation, this wa- 
vering, was instantly seen and felt by the army under his 
command. His orders, imperatively and undoubtingly 
given, they would instantly have obeyed to a man. Him, 
in a cause where his heart and his conscience led him, 
they would have followed to the death. But when, in- 
stead of commanding, he consulted — when, with the 
frankness and fearlessness which always characterize an 
honest purpose, he caused the whole matter to be laid 
before his army, and even allowed the commissioners 
from the assembly to proclaim their own messages, it is 
not to be wondered at that the army hesitated and wa- 
vered too, and finally decided to obey the orders of the 
assembly. 

And what, now, shall their general do ! Proscribed 
by the dominant party, and no less hated than feared by 
all the Jacobins, to whose mad control the country now 
seemed disposed to submit, he could not return to Paris, 
with any hope of being useful there. He could not 
remain with the army, for he could not submit to the 
orders of the men who had deposed the king to whom 
he had sworn fidelity, and trampled on the constitution, 
which, also, he had sworn to honor and defend. 

There was no alternative but exile. In the midst of 
his soldiers, he would have been safe from personal vio- 
lence, for they would sooner have defied the assembly 



THE llEIGN OP TERROR. 277 

and raised the standard of rebellion, than llave seen their 
beloved general treated as a malefactor. It was this 
peculiar condition of aifairs that made a secret flight ne- 
cessary. The avowal of his purpose, and the acknowl- 
edgment that his life was in danger, would have created 
disaffection, and perhaps revolt, in the army. He there- 
fore j'esolved to go alone, or attended only by those of 
his officers whose political opinions and importance ex- 
posed them to the same danger as himself. He would 
not draw away from France one of her defenders, nor 
suffer any to accompany him, but such as were pro- 
scribed with him, and therefore could only remain as 
victims to the vengeance of the Jacobins. Accompa- 
nied by these, and a small company of horse, as an es- 
cort, he left his camp on the 20th of August, and took 
the road to the Netherlands, where he expected to be 
received as a prisoner-of-war, or to obtain a free pass for 
himself and friends to America. Before taking his de- 
parture, he had taken care to see that everything was in 
perfect order in the camp, and made all the dispositions 
necessary to repel a sudden attack, which he very natu- 
rally supposed the enemy would attempt, with a view to 
profit by the confusion and alarm created by the discov- 
ery of his absence. Having passed the line where pur- 
suit, or any other danger from the rear, might be appre- 
hended, the escort was dismissed, with orders to return 
to the army ; and the little band of exiles, fifteen in num- 
ber, proceeded on their doubtful way, flying from unnat- 
ural enemies at home, to seek a temporary refuge among 
natural enemies in foreiofn lands. 

o 

How strange the position ! How wayward the ca- 
prices of fortune ! The man who, a few days ago, was 
the acknowledged favorite of the nation — who had un- 
boun'ded popularity with the people, and the entire con- 
fidence and affection of the army — who was more be- 

24 



278 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

loved by the virtuous, and more feared by tlie vicious, 
than any other man in France, is now a proscribed, self- 
expatriated wanderer, seeking, among the invading foes 
whom he was sent to repel, the protection which is de- 
nied him in his own country. And all this, not for any 
change in him — not for any deviation from that lofty 
course of patriotic devotion which had secured for him 
the confidence and love of the nation — not for any act 
or suspicion of treachery to the principles he had al- 
ways advocated, and had been specially commissioned 
to defend — no ! but simply and only because he would 
not change — because, while the factious leaders of the 
people had openly and flagrantly abandoned all their 
promises and oaths, he alone remained true to his, and 
preferred exile, proscription, and death, to the least de- 
parture from the straight line of his duty. 

Alexandre Lameth, Victor Latour Maubourg, and his 
brother Louis, Bureau de Puzy, the gentlemen of Lafay- 
ette's staff, and some of the staff-officers of the Parisian 
National Guard, who were implicated in the recent op- 
position to the mandates of the assembly, with Felix 
Pontonnier, secretary to Lafayette, and Jules Gruyeon, 
servant to Maubourg, made up the little band that ac- 
companied the general in his flight. 



CAPTIVITY. 270 



CHAPTER X IX. 

CAPTIVITY MAGDEBOURG OLMUTZ. 

On aiTiving at Rochefort, which v^^as one of the ad- 
vanced posts of the Austrian army, it became necessary 
to send to Namur, to procure the necessary passports 
from General Moitelle, who commanded at that station. 
Bureau de Puzy undertook this errand. On announcing 
his name and his business, he was met with a rebuff as 
shameful as it must have been startling. " What !" ex- 
claimed the agitated Austrian, " Lafayette ! General La- 
fayette ! Is he here 1 Run instantly" (addressing one of 
his officers), " and inform the duke of Bourbon. Lafay- 
ette ] — set out this moment" (addressing another officer), 
" and carry this news to his royal highness at Brussels." 
And thus he ran on, for some minutes, half-soliloquy and 
half-pantomime, ever and anon muttering the name of 
Lafayette, as if there were a spell in the very word suf- 
ficient to move his entire army. Meanwhile, De Puzy 
stood before him, unable to put in a word of explanation 
or remonstrance, till orders had been given to write to 
half the princes and generals in Europe, conveying the 
thrilling intelligence that Lafayette was a prisoner in the 
camp of the allied armies. When, at length, the general 
recovered sufficient composure to attend to the business 
immediately before him, he peremptorily refused a pass- 
port, and ordered the whole company into close custody. 

In vain did Lafayette, on his arrival at headquarters, 



280 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

demand for himself and his friends the treatment to 
which, under the laws of nations and of war, they were 
fully entitled. He was too important a personage, and 
his influence was too well known, and too widely felt, to 
allow his going at large on parole. Even at the ex- 
pense of the highest principles of justice and humanity, 
in defiance alike of civil and martial law, of personal 
honor and military precedent, the champion of liberty 
was confined as a public malefactor, and treated with all 
the indignity and severity of a convicted felon. No cir- 
cumstances could more powerfully demonstrate the ex- 
alted position of Lafayette at that period, than the violent 
procedure of General Moitelle, and the subsequent con- 
duct of the monarchs whom he represented. If the best 
hopes of liberty had not been centred in him, he could 
not have been so much the terror of tyrants, as to induce 
them, in their treatment of his person, to forego alike 
their self-respect, and the respect of all the world. In 
throwing Lafayette into a dungeon, and shutting him up 
from intercourse with France, they supposed they were 
crushing at once the head and the heart of the rebellion 
and laying anew the foundations of their tottering thrones. 
Before proceeding to extremities with the captive gen- 
eral, it was attempted to seduce him from his allegiance 
to the principles of the constitution. He was required 
to repudiate the opinions for which he had so long and 
so bravely contended. This, of course, he indignantly 
refused to do. He was then offered his freedom, and 
the passports he had demanded, on condition that he 
would publicly recant his opinions respecting the aboli- 
tion of titles of nobility. The offer was rejected with 
the scorn it merited ; and when, in the course of 
the same evening, it was proposed by the marquis of 
Chasteler, in drawing up a statement of Lafayette's 
declaration, to soften down his views on this subject, in 



CAPTIVITY. 281 

order to favor his liberation, he peremptorily objected 
to the statement, as untrue, and declared that, if any 
such means were employed to misrepresent his language, 
he would go before a notary, and make a public protest 
against the whole proceeding. 

The aiTest was made at Liege, which, being neutral 
ground, entitled the whole party to the protection of 
passports. From this place, the captives were conveyed 
to Namur, thence to Nivelles, and finally to Luxem- 
bourg, in each of which places some new indignity 
awaited them. At Namur, Lafayette was informed that 
Prince Charles was instructed to converse with him 
upon the affairs of France, and that he was expected to 
communicate such details of its military condition and 
means of defence, as would be useful to the allies, in 
prosecuting their plans of invasion. He was even given 
to understand that his personal liberty and privileges 
would depend upon the freedom and value of his dis- 
closures. To this he indignantly replied, that " if such 
a commission had been given, he did not believe there 
was a man among them who would dare to execute it 
upon him." As he said this, the prince came in. The 
courtly affability of his address, and the real respect he 
entertained for his guest, could not prevent his visit from 
being cold, constrained, and fonnal. There was little 
freedom or ease, even while the conversation turned 
upon general topics. But when, for a design which was 
perfectly understood, it was proposed that the compan- 
ions of Lafayette should withdraw, for a few moments, 
the whole party remained still and silent. Not a word 
was uttered. The proposal was met with the proud 
and speechless contempt it deserved. The rebuke was 
severely felt by the prince and his attendant. The task 
they had undertaken was too much for them, and they 
soon retired, mortified and disgusted with a commission 

24* 



282 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

as painful and degrading to themselves as it was dishon- 
orable to those who devised and required it. 

At Nivelles, a commissioner was announced from the 
duke of Saxe Teschen, commandant of the Austrian 
force at Brussels, authorized and prepared, with due 
form and solemnity, to secure the treasure, which it was 
supposed Lafayette had brought with him, with a view, 
as they professed, to account for it to the king of France. 
The announcement of this commission was received 
with a smile of incredulity, as an undignified joke. But, 
when it was repeated, with a tone of authority, as a se- 
rious demand, and fortified by the display of the com- 
mission, with the signature and seal of the noble duke, 
Lafayette, though vexed and chagrined, could not re- 
strain his laughter. " I am to infer, then," he replied, 
with cutting emphasis, " that if the duke of Saxe Tes- 
chen had been in my place, he would have stolen the 
military chest of the army. The generals of the king 
of France were tauoht in a different school of morals." 
The truth was, Lafayette, and his friends, on leaving the 
army, took with them only money enough to defray their 
expenses to a place of refuge. With an exalted unsel- 
fishness, and patriotic devotion, he stole away in se- 
cret, lest numbers should follow him, and left everything 
in camp so perfectly disposed for defence, that the enemy, 
after a searching reconnoitre at every assailable point, 
deemed it imprudent to make an attack. He made bet- 
ter provision for the safety of the army than for his own. 
The x^usti'ian major, to whom this delicate commission 
was intrusted, was struck with equal admiration and 
sui-prise, on finding, after a diligent search of their per- 
sons and portmanteaus, that they had among them only 
about two months' pay apiece. 

At Luxembourg, an attempt was made to assassinate 
Lafayette, not by the tools or emissaries of the tyrants 



THE PRISONS OP WESSEL AND MAGDEBOURG. 283 

who had assumed the infamous distinction of becoming 
liis jailers, but by his own countrymen, those aristocratic 
emigrants who had fled from their homes, where they 
were no longer regarded as bom to dignity and power, 
and were now engaged in a patricidal war, not to benefit 
France or her ill-fated king, but to recover their own 
titles and dignities. Thus proscribed and cast off by 
the Jacobins, for his fidelity to the king, and equally 
proscribed and condemned by the aristocracy, for his 
fidelity to the constitution and the people, there seemed 
to be no refuge for him on any side. Hated by the no- 
bles for his love of liberty, and by the radicals for his 
love of order, he fled from the prisons and guillotines of 
the one, at home, only to encounter the daggers and 
dungeons of the other, abroad. 

It was a source of the greatest grief to the generous 
heart of Lafayette, that the companions of his flight 
were subjected to restraint and insult on his account. 
Had he not been among them, they would probably have 
been allowed to pass unmolested. Auguste Masson, 
Rene Pillet, and Cardignan, who held only a military 
rank, were sent to Antwerp, on parole, and were, soon 
after, exchanged or liberated ; but Maubourg, De Puzy, 
and Lameth, as members of the National Assembly, were 
honored with the distinction of a dungeon, as men whose 
very existence w^as a terror to despotism. 

From Luxembourg, the captives were removed, by 
water, to Wessel on the Rhine, for more secure impris- 
onment within the domains of Prussia. During their 
journey, and on their arrival at Wessel, the populace 
were peiTnitted to assail them with the coarsest and most 
abusive language. They were put in irons, and confined 
in separate cells, in the castle. Their only attendants 
were inferior, non-commissioned officers, who were 
strictly ordered never to suffer them to be a moment 



284 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

out of sight, and not to hold any kind of conversation 
with them, nor even to answer their most unimportant 
questions. , 

The cold and damp of his cell, and the rigor of his 
confinement, were too much for the constitution of La- 
fayette. He was soon reduced to such a state of debil- 
ity as to leave but slight hopes of his recovery. In this 
condition, his fellow-prisoners were not permitted to be 
near him, or to hold any kind of intercourse with him, 
nor was he suffered to know anything of them or of his 
family. It was insolently proposed to him, however, by 
the emissaries of the king of Prussia, that he should have 
better accommodations, and more liberty, if he would 
furnish plans for military operations against France. 
The base proposal was rejected with indignation. He 
would not purchase liberty, or life, at the desperate price 
of treachery. The terms of his refusal were *so bold 
and decided, as to give new offence to his oppressors, 
who retaliated, with a petty malignity peculiar to little 
minds in great places, by diminishing still further his 
personal comforts, and increasing the severity of his 
confinement. Wessel, wretchedly dark and gloomy as 
it was, had no cell severe enough to satisfy the revenge 
of the disappointed monarch. He therefore caused his 
prisoner to be transferred to Magdebourg, where were 
dungeons better befitting his purpose. The journey was 
performed, as before, in a common cart, such as is used 
for the worst malefactors, and under a close military guard. 
It was, however, to the prisoners, a great relief from the 
monotony and solitude of their captivity, to be permitted 
to see and converse with each other on the way, and to re- 
ceive, as they did, marks of sympathy and respect from the 
people, as they passed along. At Ham, they met with 
Damas, one of the Girondists of France, and from him 
received the most painful and alarming accounts of the 



MAGDEBOURG NEISSE OLMUTZ. 285 

progress of the reign of terror, and of the scenes of cru- 
elty and carnage which were enacting in France, under 
the name of liberty. 

The dungeon into which Lafayette was thrown, was 
dark, damp, and narrow, and utterly destitute of any 
means of comfort for day or night. The prison was 
surrounded by a high wall of palisades, secured by mas- 
sive gates, and all the varieties of bolt, bar, lock, and 
chain, which the ingenuity of man had then invented. 
His companions were also removed to the same place, 
with no mitigation of their sufferings, except that derived 
from occasional intercourse with each other. 

In the fortress of Magdebourg the celebrated Baron 
Trenck passed more than nine years of his memorable 
captivity, after having escaped from the prison at Glatz. 
The romantic memoirs of that unfortunate knight fur- 
nish a gi'aphic description of the details of life in prison. 
If any one is curious to know more of the horrors of 
solitary confinement, and the privations of a Prussian 
imprisonment, he can be gratified there, even to a surfeit. 

By a refinement of cruelty, the prisoners were not 
permitted to know anything of their families, concerning 
whose fate they experienced the deepest solicitude, in 
consequence of the sweeping proscriptions and severe 
measures of the dominant faction at home, of which they 
had just been informed by Dam as. In order the more 
effectually to prevent any information from reaching them, 
great care was taken to keep their place of confinement 
secret. They were removed from place to place, lest 
haply the vigilance and perseverance of friends should 
discover their concealment, and contrive means of secret 
correspondence. After a year's confinement at Magde- 
bourg, Maubourg and De Puzy were transferred to Glatz, 
and Lafayette to Neisse. 

These places are in the province of Silesia, in the 



286 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

southeastern part of Prussia, and near the Austnan fron- 
tier, at no great distance from Olmutz. The sequel will 
show that their removal to this vicinity was only prepar- 
atory to another and a permanent removal, which was 
now contemplated, and the accomplishment of which 
alone was wanting to complete the infamy of the king 
of Prussia. 

The journey was performed in miserable wagons, 
over four hundred and fifty miles of road, under an es- 
cort of armed soldiers — an officer always in the carriage 
with each of the prisoners, with a loaded pistol in his 
hand, and with orders never for a moment to lose sight 
of his charge, on penalty of losing his own head. By 
this time, Lameth had become so reduced, by the se- 
verities of his long imprisonment, that it was impossible 
to remove him. He seemed just ready to sink under 
his sufferings. Finding that death was about to wrench 
his victim from his cruel grasp, Frederick now yielded 
so far as to separate him from his fellow-prisoners, and 
allow him to be placed, on parole, under the care of 
his friends, on condition that he should not leave the 
Prussian states. On the conclusion of a treaty of peace 
with the French republic, in 1795, Lameth was, of ne- 
cessity, set at liberty. 

Frederick, by no means willing that the peace, which 
he foresaw it would be necessary to conclude with 
France, should deprive him of his other victims, who 
still had strength remaining for further tortures, had 
already delivered them over to Austria, under the ap- 
prehension that a demand would be made for their re- 
lease. In consequence of this arrangement, they were 
transferred to Olmutz. 

Though now within the same castle, and occupying 
cells in the same corridor, the friends were as complete- 
ly guarded against all intercourse with each other, and 



OLMUTZ. 287 

all knowledge of each other's condition, as if an ocean 
or a continent separated them. As they entered their 
cells, it was declared to each of them, that they would 
never come out of them alive — that they would never 
see anything but what was enclosed within the four walls 
of their respective cells — that they would hold no com- 
munication with the outer world, nor receive any kind 
of information of persons or things there — that their 
jailers were prohibited from even pronouncing their 
names — that, in the prison rej)orts and government de- 
spatches, they would be referred to only by the numbers 
of their cells — that they would never be suffered to 
learn anything of the situation of their families, or even 
to know of each other's existence ; and that, as such 
a situation of hopeless confinement would naturally in- 
cite to suicide, knives and forks, and all other instru- 
ments by which they might do violence to themselves, 
w^ould be thenceforth withheld from them. 

The building which formed the prison at Olmutz, was 
an ancient convent of Jesuits, transformed into a military 
barrack. The cells were vaulted, both above and below. 
They were on a level with the corridor, which was itself 
on a level with a large square court, surrounded with 
lofty buildings, from v^^hich the only outlet was through 
a massive and strongly-fortified vault. The door of this 
vault was always closed at sunset. Under it was sta- 
tioned, night and day, a guard of thirty or forty men, 
and no one could pass in or out without undergoing a 
strict personal search, and a severe examination. On 
the south side, the cells were as high as the first story, 
and the windows looked out upon a terrace, or elevated 
rampart, from which there was a gentle slope of about 
three hundred feet, to the bank of a small stream flow- 
ing into the Morawa. Beyond the river, there was an 
upward sloj^o of three hundred yards, terminated by the 



288 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

walls of a fortress erected for the defence of the town on 
that side. The whole of this space, between the prison 
and the fortress, was occupied with magazines for mili- 
tary stores. There were, also, on that side, two guard- 
houses, commanding a view of the prison and its en- 
trance, whose sentries were charged with the double 
duty of watching the prisoners, and keeping a vigilant 
eye upon the sentinels placed over them. 

The elevated position of the castle, at one extreme 
of the town, with a good exposure to the south, and 
commanding a view of the country, would naturally 
make it an agreeable and healthy situation ; but the fre- 
quent and heavy fogs that lie along the valley, and the 
use of the stream as a common sewer, into which all the 
gutters and sink-drains of the town were continually 
discharging their contents, destroyed the natural advan- 
tages of the place, and made it a mere reservoir of rot- 
tenness, and a laboratory of offensive and noxious vapors. 

The external walls of the prison were six feet thick, 
and the separation walls four feet, of that solid and du- 
rable masonry which characterized the works of the 
monks of the middle ages. The aperture for the win- 
dows, eight feet in height by four in breadth, opened in 
four divisions, the upper ones being closed and secured 
by padlocks, so that air was admitted by an opening 
only four feet square. This was still further obstruct- 
ed by a double grating of massive iron bars, each set 
forming meshes six inches square, and so placed that 
the inner set obstructed the light which might have been 
admitted through the outer. The doors were double. 
The inner one was secured by a single lock ; the other, 
opening into th.e corridor, was two inches thick, secured 
by a heavy lock in the middle, and two enormous pad- 
locks above and below. To these cells, the prisoners 
were so strictly confined that they never stepped out 



PRISON-LIFE AT OLMUTZ. 289 

of them for any purpose whatever. Their scanty and 
sometimes disgusting meals were furnished three times 
a day, under a system of guards sufficient to prevent the 
escape of a regiment of armed men. The general sur- 
veillance was intrusted to a major, attached permanently 
to the place, and a lieutenant of the garrison, who was 
always selected with special reference to his unsocial 
and unsympathizing nature. Under him was a sort of 
quasi coi-poral, whom they dignified with the title of 
frevot — a stupid, timid, covetous brute, whose entire 
being was absorbed in the two passions of fear and the 
desire of gain. 

The interior guard, stationed under the great vaulted 
entrance, before mentioned, was composed of thirty 
picked men, commanded by two corporals. They re- 
lieved each other every two days, so that there were 
always fifteen men and a coi-poral on duty. The guard 
furnished five sentinels day and night ; three in the cor- 
ridor, and two on the terrace before the windows of the 
cells. The corridor could only be opened by the senti- 
nel within, and no one could enter, whoever he might be, 
unless on duty. The doors of the prisoners' cells could 
never be opened, except at the stated hours named in 
the orders, and then only in presence of one of the cor- 
porals of the guard, who was obliged, each time, to ob- 
tain the keys from the commandant-general, and to re- 
turn them himself within a specified time. If, durino- 
these intervals, any one of the prisoners had been at- 
tacked with sudden illness, however alarming, he must 
have died alone ; for no provision was made by which 
he could convey a knowledge of his wants to the com- 
mandant, and the sentinels were strictly enjoined to pay 
no attention to anything the prisoners might say. 

To make this security the more perfect, as well as to 
deprive the prisoners of the little consolation of knowing, 
25 



290 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

each day, tliat their companions were still alive, they 
were not allowed to eat at the same time, but were 
served in succession. During this ceremony, the whole 
guard of fifteen was under arms, and in service order, 
inside the corridor, the door leading into the court being 
closed and barred behind them. The door of one of 
the cells being then opened, one of the sentinels placed 
himself before it, with his musket across the opening, 
while another soldier, with a drawn sabre in his right 
hand, held the door with his left. While the meal was 
being arranged on the table, the corporal and the prevot 
went into a minute examination of the cell, with a view 
to discover if any attempt at escape had been made, or 
provided for. The doors were then doubly locked and 
bolted, and the same cautious ceremony was observed 
at each of the other cells, in their turn. 

The only solace which was allowed them was the pos- 
session of a few books, which were read and re-read, 
till they were quite worn out. But even of these, the 
utmost jealousy was manifested. The whole stock un- 
derwent a searching scrutiny, as senseless and bigoted as 
it was severe. In the first place, no work published sub- 
sequently to the beginning of the revolution, even though 
of a strictly religious character, was admitted. On this 
ground — a mere matter of date — a little devotional 
work, entitled " Imitation of Jesus Christ," was rejected. 
Helvetius was confiscated, because, as they asserted, his 
works had spoiled the heart of the emperor Joseph II. 
An abridgment of the history of Greece was condemned, 
because, on the first opening, the eye of the command- 
ant fell on the words, " liberty," and " republic." For 
other equally sage and important reasons, several other 
volumes were taken away, while some, of far more lib- 
eral sentiments, remained. 



BOLLMANN AND HUGER^S ADVENTURE. 291 



CHAPTER XX. 

BOLLMANN AND HUGER's ROMANTIC ADVENTURE. 

To this rigid confinement the prisoners were subjected 
for nearly three years and a half. During all that time, 
Maubourg and De Puzy did not once pass the threshold 
of their cells. Lafayette, after a confinement of more 
than a year, was so reduced in health, that he was per- 
mitted, on the certificate of three physicians, several 
times repeated, with urgent representations of its abso- 
lute necessity, to take an occasional walk, under the 
guard of several officers. 

Hitherto, the friends of Lafayette, and all the outer 
world, had been ignorant of the place of his confinement. 
Loud, but unavailing protests from America, from Eng- 
land, and from many parts of the continent, had been 
presented. The most urgent representations had been 
made, in high places, and under the sanction of the 
greatest names of the age, and measures, which will be 
detailed hereafter, had been put in train to effect his de- 
liverance ; but all to no purpose. So far from opening 
the door of his dungeon, they could not even discover 
the site of his prison. 

About a year after his removal to Olmutz, an enter- 
prise of a most daring and romantic character, was set 
on foot for his rescue. It was unfortunate in its issue, 
but its design and execution were worthy of the proud- 



292 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

est age of chivalry. The cavaliers of this noble enter- 
prise were Bollmann and Huger. 

Dr. Erick Bollmann was a native of the electorate of 
Hanover. Brave, adventurous, philanthropic, and an 
ardent lover of liberty and of all its true advocates, he 
cheerfully and heartily enlisted in the cause of Lafayette. 
He had already made an unsuccessful attempt to procure 
his liberation, by presenting a memorial, in pei*son, to 
Frederick of Prussia. And he now resolved to use other 
means, more effectual than humble petitions. 

Having reconnoitred the country along the frontier, he 
selected Tarnowitz, as a place of temporary retreat, in 
case an opportunity should occur of rescuing the prisoner 
from captivity. This point determined in his mind, he 
proceeded toward Olmutz. Here he ascertained that 
several state-prisoners were kept in the citadel, with a 
degree of caution and mystery, which was quite uncom- 
mon. It seemed highly probable that Lafayette was one 
of them. Acting upon this supposition, the doctor vis-, 
ited the hospital, and endeavored to form an acquaintance 
with the first surgeon. The surgeon proved to be a man 
of intelligence, probity, and feeling. After several inter- 
views, when the conversation turned on the effect of 
moral impressions on the constitution, Dr. Bollmann, 
drawing a pamphlet from his pocket, abruptly said : 
" Since we are on the subject, you attend the state-pris- 
oners here. Lafayette is among them. His health is 
much impaired. Show him this pamphlet. Tell him a 
traveller left it with you, who lately saw in London all 
the persons named in it, his particular friends ; that they 
are well, and continue attached to him as much as ever. 
This intelligence will do him more good than all your 
drugs." — 'At the same moment, he laid the pamphlet on 
the table, and perceiving that the surgeon knew not how 
to reply, changed the conversation, and soon after left him. 



BOLLMANN AND HUGER's ADVENTURE. 293 

In a few days, the surgeon mentioned, of his own ac- 
cord, that Lafayette wished to learn some further partic- 
ulai's respecting the situation of one or two persons 
whom he named. On hearing this, Bollmann, appearing 
to have accidentally about him some white paper, but 
which, in fact, had been prepared for the emergency, 
sat immediately down, and "svrote a few lines in reply to 
the inquiries made, and finished with the sentence : " I 
am glad of the opportunity of addressing you these few 
words, which, when read with your usual warmth, will 
afford to a heart like yours some consolation." The pa- 
per had been previously written over with sympathetic 
ink, which would remain invisible, unless brought out 
by the application of heat. The slight hint conveyed in 
the last sentence sufficed; Lafayette became acquainted 
with his projects, and his readiness to serve him in any 
practicable way. But the mode could be pointed out 
only by the prisoner, as he alone, from within, could 
judge what might be hopefully attempted from without. 

To guard against suspicion, the doctor, on the day 
following, proceeded to Vienna, where he remained a 
considerable time. He had a can-iage constructed there, 
in which were contrived convenient places for conveying 
secretly a variety of articles, such as rope-ladders, cords, 
tools for cutting iron bars, and other instruments for sim- 
ilar purposes. These general preparations being made, 
he visited several gentlemen on their estates in Moravia, 
and took an opportunity of again touching at Olmutz, 
where he called on the surgeon, who returned him the 
pamphlet foimerly left for Lafayette. On examining it, 
he found that the margins had been written over with 
sympathetic ink (lime-juice) ; and, on applying heat, 
learned that the captive, on account of his enfeeblcfl 
state of health, after repeated applications, had at last 
obtained peraiission to take an airing, in a carnage, at 
25* 



294 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Btated days in the week, accompanied by a military guard, 
and that by far the easiest mode to restore him to liberty, 
would be to attack the guard on one of these excursions, 
and then to take him off. 

Having ascertained, for his guidance, that Lafayette, 
in taking his ride, sat in an open carriage, with an offi- 
cer by his side, a driver on the box, and two armed sol- 
diers standing behind. Dr. Bollmann returned to Vienna. 
As it was indispensable to have at least one coadjutor, 
he communicated his project to a young American gen- 
tleman, Francis Kinloch Huger, who had often men- 
tioned to him, in conversation, that Lafayette, on arri- 
ving in America, first landed at his father's house, and 
there used often to have him on his knees, when a boy. 
He was a young man of uncommon talent, decision, and 
enthusiasm, possessed of a warm heart and a resolute 
mind ; and he entered at once into the whole design, 
and devoted himself to its execution with the most ro- 
mantic earnestness. - 
Having agreed upon a plan, they publicly announced 
their intention of returning to England together. Two 
saddle-horses were purchased, and a steady groom was 
engaged to attend them. Thus, sometimes sending the 
groom a station or two forward with the carriage, at 
others, leaving him to bring up the horses slowly, while 
they pushed on in the carriage, they arrived at Olmutz. 

These two were the only persons on the continent, 
except Lafayette himself, who had the slightest suspi- 
cion of any aiTangements for his rescue, and neither of 
these persons knew him by sight. When they reached 
Olmutz, Bollmann immediately visited the surgeon, and, 
knowing the day when the marquis was to take his ride, 
mentioned to him the same day as the one on which he 
intended to continue his journey . On that day (8th of 
November, 1794), the groom was despatched, at an early 



BOLLMANN AND HUGER's ADVENTURE. 295 

hour, to Hoff, a post-town about twenty-five miles dis- 
tant, with orders to have fresh horses in readiness at four 
o'clock. It had been concerted between the parties, 
that, to avoid all mistakes when the rescue should be at- 
tempted, each should take off his hat and wipe his fore- 
head, in token of recognition. 

Their saddle-horses were now ready at the inn, and 
Huger feigned some business near the town-gate, in or- 
der to watch the moment when the carriage should pass. 
As soon as he saw it, he hastened back to the inn. The 
two friends mounted immediately, and followed it at 
some distance, armed only with a pair of pistols, and 
those not loaded with ball. Their success was calcula- 
ted on surprise ; and, under all the circumstances of the 
case, to take any person's life would have been unjusti- 
fiable, useless, and imprudent. 

They rode by the can'iage, and then, slackening their 
pace and allowing it again to go ahead, exchanged sig- 
nals with the prisoner. At two or three miles from the 
gate, the carriage left the high road, and passed into a 
less-frequented track, in the midst of an open country ; 
the plain was covered with laboring people. Presently 
the carriage stopped. Lafayette and the officer stepped 
out, and walked arm-in-arm, probably to give the former 
more opportunity for exercise. The carriage, with the 
guard, drove slowly on, but remained in sight. This 
was evidently the moment for their attempt. The two 
companions galloped up, and Bollmann, dismounting, 
left his horse with Huger. At the same instant, Lafay- 
ette laid hold of the officer's sword, but could only half 
draw it from the scabbard, as the officer, a stout man, 
had seized it also. The doctor joining, he was presently 
disarmed ; but then he grasped Lafayette, held Him with 
all his might, and set up a tremendous roaring for help. 
The guard, on hearing it, instead of coming to his as- 



296 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

sistance, fled to alarm the citadel. The people in the 
field stood aghast. A scuffle ensued. Huger passed the 
bridles of the two horses over one arm, and with the other 
hand thrust his handkerchief into the officer's mouth, to 
stop the noise. The officer, the prisoner, and the doc- 
tor, came to the ground. The doctor, kneeling on the 
officer, kept him down, while the general rose. 

All would now have been well, but one of the horses, 
taking fright at the sdene and noise, reared, slipped his 
bridle, and ran off. A countryman caught him, and was 
holding him at a considerable distance. Bollmann, still 
keeping down the officer, handed a purse to the general, 
requesting him to mount the horse which was left ; and 
Huger told him, in English, to go to Hoff. He mistook 
what was said to him, for a more general direction to go 
off" — delayed a moment, to see if he could not assist 
them — went on — rode back again, and asked once more 
if he could be of any service — and finally, urged anew, 
galloped away, and was out of sight in a minute. 

The officer, recovering from his panic, fled tow- 
ard Olmutz. The doctor and Huger recovered the 
horse that had escaped, and both mounted him, intend- 
ing to follow and assist Lafayette ; but the animal, less 
docile and tractable than the other, which had been 
trained to carry two persons, refused to perform this 
task, reared and bounded, and presently threw them 
both. Huger immediately exclaimed, " This will not do ! 
The marquis wants you. Push on ! I '11 take my chance 
on foot across the country." The doctor pushed for- 
ward, and Huger, who had now little chance of escape, 
was soon seized by the peasants, and conducted back to 
Olmutz. These accidents defeated their romantic enter- 
prise. Bollmann easily arrived at Hoff ; but not finding 
Lafayette there, and being anxious to receive some in- 
telligence of him, although he might readily have se- 



BOLLMANN AND HUGEr's ADVENTURE. 297 

cured himself by proceeding to Tarnowitz, he lingered 
about the frontiers till the next night, when he, too, was 
an-ested by order of the Prussian authority, at the requi- 
sition of Austria. 

Lafayette remained unpursued. He had taken a wrong 
road, which led to Jagersdoif, a place on the Prussian 
frontier, and followed it as long as his horse could pro- 
ceed. He was within a few miles of the boundary of 
Austrian rule ; and perceiving that his horse could go 
no farther, he accosted a man, whom he overtook on the 
road, not far from a village, and endeavored to prevail 
on him to procure him another horse, and to attend him 
to the frontier. The man appeared satisfied, and went 
toward the village for the horse. But the general had 
awakened suspicion by his accent, his appearance, his 
request, and his money. The man promptly returned 
from the village, but he came with a force to aiTest the 
marquis, and conduct him before a magistrate. During 
three days, the period of his detention there, his name 
was unkno-WTi. He was at last recognised by an officer 
from Olmutz, to which fortress he was reconducted. 

All three of the prisoners were separately confined, 
without being permitted to know anything of each oth- 
er's fate. Huger was chained to the floor, in a small 
arched dungeon, about six by eight feet, without light, 
and with only bread and water for food ; and once in six 
hours, by day and by night, the guard entered, and, with 
a lamp, examined each brick, and each link of his chains. 
To his earnest request to know something of Bollmann, 
and to leam whether Lafayette had escaped, he received 
no answer at all. To his still more earnest solicitation 
to be permitted to send to his mother, in America, merely 
the words, " I am alive,^^ signed with his name, he re- 
ceived a rude refusal. 

Bollmann was also put in chains, and conducted to a 



29S LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

dismal dungeon, half under ground. Only a faint light 
broke into it, through a narrow, oblique aperture, made 
in a wall upward of five feet thick. When he laid down 
at night, chained to the walls, he was attacked by myri- 
ads of famished vermin. Neither candle-light nor books 
were allowed him, and his food was limited to what 
could be procured for four cents per day. In this dread- 
ful situation he remained more than two months, with- 
out communication with any person except the jailer; 
nor did he ever learn from him the fate of Mr. Huger. 
In fact, at first, every degree of brutal severity was prac- 
tised toward both of them ; but, afterward, this severity 
was relaxed. They were placed nearer together, where 
they could communicate with each other ; and their tri- 
al, which was protracted during the whole winter, was 
begun with all the tedious formalities that could be 
prescribed by Austrian fear and caution ; for they had 
dreamed, in Vienna, of a deep-rooted plot, and wide-ex- 
tended conspiracy, and could not believe that such an 
attempt would be made merely by two individuals, and 
without any other design than simply that of restoring a 
man to freedom and to his friends. 

By the powerful but unknown intercessions of many 
of the personal friends of Dr. Bollmann, in Vienna, but 
particularly through the influence of Count Metro wsky, 
a nobleman living near the prison, the rigor of their 
treatment was not only greatly mitigated, but, on the 
conclusion of their trial, they were merely sentenced to 
two weeks additional confinement, after having been al- 
ready imprisoned during eight months. The doctor and 
Mr. Huger received many flattering marks of kindness 
and good will, even at Olmutz, before their departure ; 
and their progress through Germany was a kind of tri- 
umph, though embittered by the recollection of the con- 
tinued captivity of Lafayette. 



PRISON INCIDENTS AT OLMUTZ. 299 



CHAPTER XXL 

prison incidents at olmutz efforts to procure 

Lafayette's release. 

More than three years of captivity had now worn 
away. The last was more rigorous and distressing than 
any of the preceding. Thrown back into his wretched 
duns^eon, with bitter taunts and execrations for his vain 
attempt to escape, he had scarcely a hope that his suffer- 
ings would have any other termination than death. His 
feet were put in irons, secured to a massive bolt in the 
floor, and so closely fastened about his ankles, that, for 
three months, he endured the most excruciating tortures. 
During the winter of 1794-'5, which was extremely se- 
vere, he was thrown into a fever, and reduced to the 
verge of the grave ; and yet the severity of his confine- 
ment was in no way mitigated on this account. Neither 
food, clothing, nor attendance, Suitable to his enfeebled 
condition, was allowed him. His bed was of damp, 
mouldy straw, which had not been changed for the sea- 
son, to which he was confined by a chain round his waist, 
secured to the wall, and only long enough to enable him 
to turn from side to side. To add to his distresses, he 
was given to understand that he was only reserved for 
an ignominious execution, that the friends who had so 
nobly attempted his rescue had already perished on the 
scaffold, and that all his family had fallen under the san- 
guinary guillotine of Robespeirro, of which he had heard 



300 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

an appalling account during the few brief hours of his 
unfortunate attempt to escape. 

The disinterested exertions of Bollman and Huger, 
while they recoiled upon themselves, and greatly increased 
the rigor of Lafayette's confinement, resulted in one great 
advantage to all who were interested in the fate of the 
captive. It revealed to the world the place of his captiv- 
ity, and opened a way of access to it which could not be 
again closed up. During the latter half of these three 
long, dark, eventful years, the heroic wife and daughters of 
Lafayette, a wife and daughters worthy of the name and 
the man, had also been suffering a close imprisonment, 
among the thousands of virtuous victims of the era of 
proscription in France. Day after day, the companions 
of their imprisonment had been drawn out to the insatia- 
ble axe, and yet the prisons of the capital were crowded 
to suffocation with wretched beings, who, in countless 
numbers, awaited their turn to undergo the same horri- 
ble fate. Already, Madame de Noailles, the grandmother 
of Madame Lafayette, the Duchess d'Ayen, her mother, 
and the viscountess de Noailles, her sister, had been 
immolated on that infernal altar. The dark cycle was 
still revolving in the blood of thousands, without re- 
spect to age, or sex, or character. Her own day, and 
those of her daughters, were already marked in the 
dreadful calendar of the revolutionary tribunal. Utterly 
ignorant of the fate of husband and father, and equally 
ignorant of the fate that awaited themselves, their im- 
prisonment was a season of hopeless and withering sus- 
pense, under which the spirit fainted, and the physical 
powers gave way. 

By some unaccounted-for oversight, or by a refinement 
of cruelty which delights in lengthening out a season of 
agonizing suspense to the utmost limit of endurance, the 
day of their doom was suffered to pass by. Meanwhile, 



PRISON-LIFE AT OLMUTZ. 301 

the swift retributions of an All- Wise and just Providence, 
which overrules the affairs of nations, and often vindicates 
itself in the fates of men, lingered not. The revolution 
overleaped itself. The master-spirit of the Convention 
was condemned by his own tribunal. The blood of 
RobespieiTe washed away the reproach of the guillotine. 
The prison-doors were thrown open, and their innocent, 
unsuspected, uncondemned inmates, of every rank, age, 
and sex, chargeable only with virtue superior to the evil 
times on which they had fallen, rushed forth to light, life, 
and liberty. The axe rested, surfeited with blood, and 
the pui'ple stream that flowed beneath it — 

"Ebbed, and langniished, and died away." 

No sooner was Madame Lafayette restored to liberty, 
than, sending her son George to America, to be placed 
under the care of Washington, she set out, accompanied 
by her daughters, for Germany, to see what a wife could 
do for the release of her husband. They passed under 
the name of Motier, and with the protection of American 
passports. On arriving at Vienna, she sought, and, 
through the kind offices of the prince de Rozemberg, 
obtained, an audience for herself and her daughters. 
The interview can better be imagined than described. 
The emperor was Francis L, nephew of the late unfor- 
tunate Marie Antoinette, queen of France. The peti- 
tioner was the wife of Lafayette, whom, notwithstanding 
his eminent services, and his fidelity to the king, Marie 
had always distrusted and hated, as an enemy in dis- 
guise. It is quite probable that all the royal house of 
Austria were infected by the same suspicions, and filled 
with the same dislike. In addition to this, the emperor 
was, by his own confession, bound by engagements with 
his allies in the war against the French revolution. He 
had assumed the odious character of a jailer, without 
26 



302 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

reserving the right of relinquishing it at pleasure. To all 
her appeals for a restoration of her husband to liberty, 
and her assurances that they would depart instantly for 
America, he coldly replied, that his hands were tied — 
that he could not, if he would, grant her request. She 
then asked leave to share his imprisonment, with her 
daughters. This was reluctantly granted by him, in 
opposition to the wishes and counsels of his minis- 
ters ; but it was accompanied with restrictions and 
severities worthy of the inquisition or the Bastile. The 
rigors of a stateprison were not to be remitted by the 
entrance within its gloomy walls of these angels of mer- 
cy, nor mitigated by any of the comforts which they had 
provided. They alone were allowed to enter, after 
leaving behind them everything that could possibly be 
spared from their own conveniences, and all that did not 
absolutely belong to themselves. They were also as- 
sured, in entering the walls of the prison, that they would 
close on them for life. 

Unmoved by these appalling prospects, and desiring 
only to share life, in whatever condition, with a husbaiid 
and a father, whom they regarded with affection and re- 
spect approaching to idolatry, they hastened, with the 
utmost despatch, to Olmutz, a distance of one hundred 
and fifty miles, and presented their imperial passports at 
the gate of the prison. 

Their meeting, who shall attempt to describe ! One 
moment, the heart of the husband and father is faint- 
ing under those horrible doubts which, far worse than 
certain evils, oppress and overwhelm the soul — imagin- 
ing the wife of his youth, and the children of his love, 
pining in prisons as dark and wretched as his own, or 
led out, amid the brutal acclamations of infuriated fiends, 
to the scaffold and the axe ! — the next moment, the door 
of his cell flies open at an unusual hour, and while he, 



PRISON-LIFE AT OT.MUTZ. 303 

perhaps with a feeling of relief, looks up to see his own 
executioner enter, his wife and children rush into his 
arms, and cover him with kisses and tears ! 

From this time, these noble-hearted women did not 
leave the prison, till they accompanied Lafayette, on 
his liberation, in 1797. His daughter Anastasie was six- 
teen years of age, and Virginia thirteen, when they en- 
tered Olmutz. Confined in separate cells for eighteen 
hours of each day, and allowed to pass only six hours 
in the narrow cell of their father, the time must have 
moved on with leaden wings. Its wretched monot- 
ony was relieved only by the continual exercise of 
their ingenuity in devising means to add to the com- 
forts, and lighten the burdens, of their parents. Un- 
happily, there was ample scope for the use of all their 
talents. The wardrobe of their father was so reduced, 
that it was scarcely possible to keep him decently cov- 
ered. As the police of the prison contemplated no pro- 
vision of this kind, it was necessarily supplied by th3 
skill and industry of his daughters. So scanty were 
their means of supplying this deficiency, that the only 
stockings he had to wear were patched up from the 
shreds of an old coat. 

But innocence and love are cheerful under all circum- 
stances, where opportunity is afforded to cherish the ob- 
jects of love. The unspeakable satisfaction of being 
near their father, enlivening his solitude, and administer- 
ing to his wants, made Olmutz their paradise, and the 
prison their home. They felt no hardships but his, and 
realized no privations but as they affected him. They 
lavished upon him every attention. They sung, and 
played, and laughed, and whiled away the weary hours 
of the day, till they seemed as short as they were few. 
They amused themselves with all that was strange or 
grotesque in the appointments of their naiTow quarters 



304 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

in the castle, as well as in the persons and characters of 
their jailers, who, being set for their guards and attend- 
ants, became, less by virtue of their office than by their 
own innate selfishness and inhumanity, their daily tor- 
mentors. The officers and guards, each in their turn, 
with one honorable exception, came in for their share 
of this harmless sarcasm. The poor prevot, before men- 
tioned, was the master-subject of their wit. Of him they 
preserved a lasting memorial, in a faithful sketch made 
by Anastasia, an enlarged copy of which is here pre- 
sented. The original was drawn on the young lady's 
thumb-nail, lest it should be discovered and seized, or 
made a pretext for some new indignity ; for she could 
hardly suppose that the old fellow, who had probably 
never enjoyed the luxury of a mirror, would be flattered 
or pleased with a faithful full-length portrait. He is 
represented in the act of opening the door at the en- 
trance of the coiTidor. 

During all their confinement at Olmutz, their keepers 
and attendants are characterized as coarse, unfeeling, 
and cruel, with the single exception of Count M'EUigot, 
who had charge of the police of the prison during a por- 
tion of their last year, of whom honorable and grateful 
mention is made, for the kindness and urbanity which 
invariably marked his conduct. 

In their attempts to amuse their parents, and to alle- 
viate the hardships of their captivity, the young ladies 
were greatly assisted by the untiring zeal and fruitful 
ingenuity of their two servants, Jules and Felix, who 
still, with a fidelity worthy of all praise, clung to them 
through all the hardships and privations of their long 
confinement. From prison to prison, they had followed 
Lafayette, and administered, as far as they were permit- 
ted to do, to his most pressing wants. This service 
was rendered exceedingly difficult and trying, by the 




The Prevdt at Olmuti.— Page 304. 



PRISON-LIFE AT OLMUTZ. 305 

harshness and suspicion of the officers. At one time, 
Felix was severely punished, and shut up in a low, dark 
hole for three months, and fed only upon black bread 
and water, because he was suspected of attempting to 
contrive a medium of communication between his mas- 
ter and his fellow-prisoners; after which Lafayette was 
not permitted to see him for more than two years. Yet 
he remained, a voluntary prisoner in the gloomy cas- 
tle, and subject to all the privations of a dungeon, till 
his general was released, and he was permitted to ac- 
company him home. His fidelity was the more remark- 
able, as he was only sixteen years old at the time of 
his arrest. 

Felix was a youth of no little taste, and had cultivated 
music to some purpose ; and when he was not permitted 
to hold any direct communication with his master, he 
often enlivened the dull hours of their wearisome soli- 
tude by the dulcet notes of his flute, which he played at 
the grrating- of his own cell, so that the sounds mig-ht 
reach the ears of the occupants of the adjoining cells. 
It is wonderful that his over-cautious jailers allowed 
even this indulgence ; they certainly would not have 
done so, if they had known all the mysterious agencies 
of these notes, and the purpose for which they were 
often employed. In the early part of their imprison- 
ment, Felix had invented a kind of musical language, 
known only to the prisoners, by means of which he often 
succeeded in conveying intelligence from one to the 
other, of their respective situations and wants. He sev- 
eral times eluded the vigilance of the jailers so far as to 
convey interesting messages from cell to cell, and even 
to provide secret means of coiTespondence with friends 
without. True, his ingenuity accomplished nothing im- 
portant ; but it occupied and elevated his own spirits, 
shed an occasional gleam of sunshine over the dark mo- 
26* 



306 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

notony of solitary confinement, and proved the depth 
and sincerity of his devotion to a master v^ho was wor- 
thy of the attachment he inspired. 

The close imprisonment of Madame Lafayette, in a 
place so damp and unwholesome, following immediately 
upon her confinement of a year and a half in the prison of 
the Tribunal at Paris, proved too much for her strength. 
She became exceedingly reduced ; and at length, in sub- 
mission to the earnest entreaties of her husband and 
children, was induced to write to the emperor, asking 
permission to pass a week at Vienna, where she might 
breathe a pure air, and enjoy the advantages of a whole- 
some regimen, and the advice of a physician. Two 
months this reasonable petition remained unnoticed. At 
the expiration of that period, the commandant of the 
prison, who had never before honored her with a visit, 
entered her cell, and, having directed her daughters to 
leave her, informed her that she was prohibited from 
ever appearing at Vienna, but that she had leave to de- 
part from the fortress, on condition of never returning 
to it again, or remaining in any of the dominions of the 
emperor. Requiring her to decide on the instant, and 
to commit her decision to paper, she seized a pen, and 
wrote as follows : — 

** I owed it to my family and my friends, to ask the 
assistance necessary for my health ; but they know that 
the conditions attached to it can not be accepted by me. 
I never can forget that, while we were both on the point 
of perishing — I by the tyranny of Robespierre, my hus- 
band by the physical and moral sufferings of his captiv- 
ity — I was not permitted to receive any news of him, 
nor he to leani that his children and I still existed. I 
will not expose myself to the horror of a new separation. 
Whatever may be the state of my health, or the incon- 
venience of this residence to my daughters, we shall 



EFFORTS TO PROCURE HIS RELEASE. 307 

gi'atefully avail ourselves of his imperial majesty's good- 
ness, in permitting us to share my husband's captivity in 
all its details. *' Noailles Lafayette." 

From the moment of the arrest of Lafayette, earnest 
and vigorous efforts were made, by his numberless friends, 
and by many who were personally strangers to him, to 
procure his release. General Washington had just en- 
tered upon the second term of his administration. With 
intense interest and untiring zeal, he applied himself to 
such measures as were deemed most likely to prove 
availinof for the restoration of his friend to liberty. In 
his official capacity, as head of the nation, he could not 
interpose, without involving the country in the contro- 
versy ; but he caused the most urgent representations 
to be made in his behalf, to the governments of England 
and France, instructing the ministers resident near those 
courts to leave no means untried to procure his speedy 
liberation. 

With a delicacy which is always a characteristic of 
great minds, Washington addressed a letter to Madame 
Lafayette, informing her that one thousand dollars were 
placed to her credit with his bankers in Holland, he be- 
ino: indebted in more than that amount to her husband, 
for services rendered, of which he had not received an 
account. He then sent Mr. Marshall to Berlin, with an 
urgent and eloquent letter to the king of Prussia, solicit- 
ing, not only as an act of justice, but as a personal favor 
to himself, the release of his noble prisoner. But he 
had already been transferred to the sterner keeping of 
Austria. Direct application was then made, through 
Mr. Jay, to the court of Vienna, followed by a private, 
unofficial letter from Washington, marked by the pecu- 
liar dignity, simplicity, aad force of reasoning, which 
characterize all his voluminous correspondence. " It 
will readily occur to your majesty," he says, " that oc- 



SOS LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

casions may sometimes exist, on which official consider- 
ations would constrain the chief of a nation to be silent 
and passive, in relation even to objects which affect his 
sensibility, and claim his interposition, as a man. Find- 
ing myself precisely in this situation at present, I take 
the liberty of writing this private letter to your majesty, 
being persuaded that my motives will also be my apol- 
ogy for it. 

*' In common with the people of this country, I retain 
a strong and cordial sense of the services rendered to them 
by the marquis de Lafayette, and my friendship for him 
has been constant and sincere. It is natural, therefore, 
that I should sympathize with him and his family, in their 
misfortunes, and endeavor to mitigate the calamities they 
experience, among which his present confinement is not 
the least distressing. 

" I forbear to enlarge on this delicate subject. Permit 
me only to submit to your majesty's consideration, wheth- 
er his long imprisonment, and the confiscation of his es- 
tate, and the indigence and dispersion of his family, and 
the painful anxieties incident to all these circumstances, 
do not form an assemblage of sufferings which recom- 
mend him to the mediation of humanity 1 Allow me, 
sir, on this occasion, to be its organ ; and to entreat that 
he may be permitted to come to this country, on such 
conditions, and under such instructions, as your majesty 
may think it expedient to prescribe. 

" As it is a maxim with me not to ask what, under 
similar circumstances, I would not grant, your majesty 
will do me the justice to believe that this request ap- 
pears to me to correspond with those great principles 
of magnanimity and wisdom, which form the basis of 
sound policy and durable glory." 

To all these appeals, the court of Vienna was inexo- 
rably deaf Permission was refused even to transmit an 



EFFORTS TO PROCURE HIS RELEASE. 309 

open letter to Madame Lafayette, inquiring after her 
health and that of the prisoners. An ineffectual effort 
was also made to procure his release, by paying any 
amount of ransom which the cupidity of his captors 
might exact, and large sums were remitted from Amer- 
ica, for that purpose, to two of his aides in London. 

Meanwhile, the most earnest efforts were made to 
secure the mediation of England in this matter. The 
American ministers in Europe exerted all their influence 
to this end. Washington addressed letters to all his 
influential friends in England and on the continent, 
pressing every motive of policy, friendship, humanity, 
and justice, in support of his object. The leading jour- 
nals of America and Europe advocated the cause with 
all the zeal and talent they could command. Numer- 
ous supporters arose in every quarter ; friends increased 
on every side. Men, to whom Lafayette was a total 
stranger, who knew him only as the champion of free- 
dom, and a martyr to its cause, aiTayed themselves for 
his defence, and called loudly for his deliverance. It 
seemed as if the virtuous and noble-hearted of every 
land and language, claimed him as a brother, and felt 
that the cause of humanity was the cause of Lafayette. 

On the other hand, the kings and aristocrats of Eu- 
rope, with their partisans, interested in upholding the 
ancient order of things, secretly triumphed in the down- 
fall of a man, by whose means the atmosphere of des- 
potic Europe had become infected with the influences 
of American freedom. They regarded his very exist- 
ence as incompatible with the safety of the existing gov- 
eiTiments of Europe. They associated his name with 
all that was fearful in revolution, and desti'uctive in an- 
archy. The accusation of Fayettism was in itself a de- 
cree of imprisonment or death. The archives of their 
tribunals, if examined, would disclose multitudes of com- 



310 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

mitments and condemnations on this charge alone. In 
terror of its extension and prevalence, they not only 
sustained the emperor of Austria in his unholy act of 
oppression, but, as he himself declared to Madame La- 
fayette, " tied his hands" by their selfish diplomacy. 

Under these circumstances, his name became the ral- 
lying word of liberty. Often did good citizens, men 
of the highest character for virtue and talents, vv^hen 
proscribed by anarchists in France, or by monarchists 
elsewhere, profess before the tribunals, and even on the 
scaffold, their profound attachment to the principles and 
the person of Lafayette. " Behold !" said an officer at 
the battle of Fleurus, while passing before a battalion 
of the National Guards, " behold a company of Fay- 
ettists !" — "Yes," replied the captain, proudly, "we 
are all Fayettists, and you shall see if we fight or fly." 
They went into the thick of the battle, and but few of 
them returned alive. 

Of the many private citizens who took a deep and ac- 
tive interest in the release of Lafayette, the most remark- 
able was Joseph Masclet. He was a Frenchman, a man 
of extensive learning, fine taste, and ardent patriotism. 
Proscribed for his attachment to the constitution, he 
made his escape to England, where he met with Talley- 
rand, and other emigrants of distinction. Talleyrand 
had formed the design of proceeding to America, and 
expressed a strong desire that Masclet should accompa- 
ny him. But an affair of the heart detained him. He 
married and remained in England. 

Masclet was not personally acquainted with Lafayette, 
and had never even seen him ; but he shared his polit- 
ical principles, and admired his virtues. Having retired 
to a country-seat near London, he wrote constantly and 
powerfully against the unjust detention of Lafayette, and 
published his numerous articles in the Moniing Chroni- 



MASCLET ELEUTHERE. 311 

cle, and in the journals of Holland and Hamburg, over 
the Greek signature of Eleuthere, or Freeman. The bet- 
ter to further his object, he connected himself with the 
opposition members of the British parliament, and, 
through them, made the people of England speak loudly 
in reprobation of France, for remaining indifferent to 
the unjust captivity of so distinguished a citizen. He 
secured the assistance of active and intelligent agents, by 
whose means, though with infinite difficulty, he estab- 
lished a coiTespondence with the prisoners, which, though 
irregular, and often interrupted, acquainted them with 
the efforts of friends on their behalf, and enabled him to 
speak confidently of their situation, and the severe treat- 
ment to which they were subjected. So powerful were 
his arguments, so urgent his appeals, that even the des- 
potic emperor was compelled, in very shame, to assign 
reasons for his oppressive conduct. It was then that 
he made the memorable declaration, which betrayed the 
almost puerile weakness of his fears, that "the existence 
of Lafayette was incompatible with the safety of the 
present governments of Europe." 

The generous undertaking of Masclet was not only a 
difficult but a dangerous one. It drew upon himself the 
hatred and the persecution of all the crowned heads of 
Europe. Exasperated at the boldness and truth of his 
disclosures, Francis sent several emissaries to London, 
to discover, and, if possible, put to silence, the daring 
and troublesome Eleuthere. Had he been found, he 
would, no doubt, have been secretly assassinated, or 
kidnapped and hun'ied to Olmutz, never again to see the 
light of day. But, safe under laws, where alone there is 
safety for the citizen, laws that guaranty the freedom of 
the press, Eleuthere baffled the secret agents of Aus- 
tria, and reiterated his complaints in louder tones and 
severer denunciations than before, till the emperor was 



312 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

compelled to attempt another vindication of his courser. 
This was in the form of a manifesto, setting forth his 
extreme lenity to his prisoners, and the many and un- 
usual indulgences granted them in their confinement. 
This was met by a vigorous refutation from Masclet, 
revealing the whole truth, and showing up, in all their 
sickening details, their numberless privations, the harsh 
and unnecessary rigor of their confinement, and the petty 
vexations by which their captivity was aggravated. 

To its shame be it said, the English cabinet, under 
the administration of Pitt, was ranked with the enemies 
of Lafayette. By the eloquence and perseverance of 
Masclet, however, a powerful interest in his favor was 
awakened among the most distinguished of the opposi- 
tion members. Fox, Wilberforce, Sheridan, Grey, Fitz- 
patrick, and Tarleton — the same Tarleton w^ho, under 
Cornwallis, had fought against Lafayette in Virginia — 
made repeated and courageous efforts to compel the 
interference of the government in behalf of the prison- 
ers of Olmutz. They were seconded by some of the 
ablest writers and most illustrious men on the continent, 
and by many even in the heart of Germany, and under 
the shadow of the imperial throne. " I can never be- 
lieve," said the brave Fitzpatrick, "that this country 
hates a man born in France, because he instituted the 
National Guards, who, after having for two years, under 
his orders, protected property and maintained the tran- 
quillity of the capital, have enabled France to establish 
the government of her choice against all the efforts of 
coalesced Europe ; still less can I, by any admission, 
sanction the idea that there exists in any corner of the 
British soil, in any English heart, conceptions so nar- 
row, vengeance so base, as to wish to see the pupil of 
the illustrious Washington perishing in a dungeon on 
account of his political principles, were it even true that 



FITZPATRICK FOX NAPOLEON. 813 

he had learned those principles by supporting the cause 
of America against Great Britain." 

Fox, in one of his impassioned addresses, alluding to 
the base proposal of the king of Prussia, to give Lafay- 
ette his liberty on condition that he would furnish plans 
for military operations against France, said : " With the 
same diabolical perversity which afterward suggested to 
the Austrian ministers the laying of snares for the cour- 
ageous affection of the wife, endeavors were made to 
seduce the patriotism of the husband. Base men had 
dared to hope that Lafayette would be disposed to re- 
nounce his brilliant and justly-acquired reputation ; that 
he would stain the laurels with which he was covered, 
and sacrifice a noble character, which will flourish in the 
annals of the world, and live in the veneration of pos- 
terity, when kings, and the crowns they wear, will be no 
more regarded than the dust to which they must return. 
But Lafayette, while he condemned the measures which 
exiled him, was too magnanimous to favor the designs 
of those who were leagued against his country. The 
idea of such perfidy could not approach that heart, which 
never for a moment ceased to glow with a sacred fire of 
the purest and most religious patriotism." 

But the court of Vienna was insensible alike to the 
voice of reason, the claims of justice, and the appeals of 
humanity. It was not, however, wholly impregnable. 
There was one point in which it could be successfully 
assailed ; and that which could not be won from its jus- 
tice or its humanity, was at length extorted from its fears. 
While the calm persuasive dignity of Washington, the 
impassioned eloquence of Fox and Fitzpatrick, and the 
importunate zeal and unanswerable logic of Masclet, did 
but rivet faster the chains of despotism, which they were 
endeavoring to break, it was reserved for the all-con- 
quering sword of Napoleon. to sever them at a blow. 
27 



314 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XXI I. 

LAFAYETTE RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 

"When the reign of terror, having exhausted anarchy 
of its victims, and satiated Death vi^ith blood, gave way 
to returning reason, the voice of France vv^as again heard, 
amid the smouldering ashes of her desecrated altars, 
asking for her exiled martyrs. In the early part of 1797, 
Napoleon vv^as general-in-chief of the army of Italy. 
Hanging on the confines of Austria, within a few days' 
march of her capital, he threatened her with a deluge 
of arms, like that which once poured down from " the 
populous north" upon the plains of Italy. Austria trem- 
bled at his advance, and made hasty proposals of peace. 
Assuming the powers of a negotiator, the youthful gen- 
eral included in his preliminaries a demand for the im- 
mediate release of the prisoners of Oimutz. His gener- 
ous thought was seconded by the immediate action of 
the Directory, instructing him to insist upon his demand, 
as the sme qua non of the treaty. General Clarke, com- 
missioned to meet the envoys of Austria, at Turin, had 
instructions to the same effect, which he urged with the 
vehemence and perseverance of a generous-hearted sol- 
dier. 

Austria promised, but delayed. France reiterated her 
demand, and instructed her envoys to say, peremptorily, 
to the cabinet of Vienna, that " the time had arrived for 
a categorical explanation ; that' the prolonged detention 



RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 315 

of the prisoners of Olmutz, after the promise of their 
enlargement, led to a suspicion of a rupture ; that the 
speedy liberation of the prisoners was the most unequiv- 
ocal pledge which his imperial majesty could give to the 
French republic, of his desire to bring to a happy issue 
a negotiation that essentially interested the welfare of 
both nations, and the tranquillity of Europe." This 
was language too decided to be misunderstood. Further 
delay was impossible. Lieutenant-General Chasteler was 
therefore commissioned to propose to the prisoners the 
conditions on which they should receive their freedom. 
These were, that Lafayette should immediately depart 
for America, and that all of them should sign a pledge 
never again to enter any part of the Austrian dominions, 
without the special permission of the emperor. In the 
hope that the prospect of immediate deliverance would 
induce them to gloss over the story of their wrongs, and 
thus shield the government from the odium of cruel and 
impolitic severity, General Chasteler was also instructed 
to obtain from each of them a statement of the treatment 
they had received at Olmutz. 

In reply to this commission, Lafayette declined ma- 
king any complaints, but referred, for the ti-eatment he 
had received, to the instructions sent from Vienna, in the 
name of the emperor. Maubourg and De Puzy, on the 
other hand, set forth the hardships they had endured, in 
their true colors, confirming, in all respects, the often 
reiterated charges of Masclet. To the conditions im- 
posed upon him, Lafayette replied, that it had long been 
his intention to repair to America, as soon as he should 
have the power to do so ; but, as a pledge to that effect, 
under present circumstances, would appear like* an ac- 
knowledgment of the emperor's right to impose such a 
condition, he felt it inexpedient to give it. On the other 
condition, his answer was in these words : " His majesty, 



316 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

the emperor and Mng, has done me honor to announce 
to me that, as the principles which I profess are incom- 
patible with the safety of the Austrian government, he 
can not consent to my return to his states, without his 
special permission. • There are certain duties, the fulfil- 
ment of which I can not decline. Some I owe to the 
United States, and more to France. I can not, under 
any circumstances, release myself from the right which 
my country possesses over my person. With this reser- 
vation, I can assure general the marquis de Chasteler of 
my fixed determination never to set foot in any state 
subject to his imperial majesty, the king of Bohemia and 
Hungary." Maubourg and De Puzy made each a sim- 
ilar reservation. 

These manly replies were wholly unsatisfactory to the 
court. The Austrian ambassadors, however, at the head- 
quarters of the French army in Italy, were instructed to 
declare that the prisoners were liberated. They hoped 
thus to secure the ratification of the treaty, and then to 
cover, by an endless tissue of diplomacy, this flagrant 
breach of one of the stipulations. But Bonaparte was 
as quick-sighted as he was rapid and energetic in action. 
He immediately suspected the treachery, and, with his 
characteristic promptness, despatched Louis Romeuf, 
an ardent admirer of Lafayette, and one of his aides in 
the National Guards, to treat directly with the prime- 
minister Thugut, at Vienna. 

Many obstacles were thrown in his way, but Romeuf 
manfully surmounted them all, and presented his de- 
mand, in person, to the court, requiring, not assurances 
only, but evidence, that the gates of Olmutz had been 
thrown open, and the citizens of France set free. With 
all the warmth of his enthusiastic nature, and of a devo- 
ted attachment to Lafayette, he earnestly solicited per- 
mission to go to Olmutz, " to embrace there the martyrs 



RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 317 

to the noble cause in which he was engaged." This, 
though often repeated, was constantly refused. 

Backed by the terror of Napoleon's name and sword, 
Romeuf's mission was short and successful. The court 
consented that the prisoners should be liberated at once, 
on the sole condition that " the American consul at Ham- 
burg would promise to do his utmost to engage them to 
quit the territory of Austria within ten days after their 
arrival at that place. 

Hastening to Hamburg, Romeuf soon returned to 
Vienna, with the official pledge of Mr. Parish, the 
American consul, and his assurance that a vessel should 
be immediately placed at the disposal of Lafayette, to 
convey him and his friends to America, should they de- 
sire to go. Ample funds were, at the same time, placed 
at their disposal, to provide them with every conveni- 
ence. The gallant Romeuf now urgently renewed his 
solicitations to be permitted to become the bearer of 
this intelligence to Olmutz, that he might enjoy the 
singular satisfaction of seeing its massive gates fly open 
at his bidding, and of receiving to his embrace, and 
ushering back to life and liberty, his venerated com- 
mander, and the devoted sharers of his long captivity. 
The privilege was still peremptorily denied, though the 
minister had the courtesy to offer to convey any letters 
which he might please to wi'ite. 

Romeufs letter to Lafayette, on this occasion, is full 
of interest, and expresses an intense affection, as credit- 
able to him who felt it, as to him who was capable of 
inspiring it. It speaks of the extreme irritation of 
the emperor and his ministers, on the refusal of the 
prisoners to accept of their recent proposals, and their 
absolute determination never to relent — of the warm 
and decided zeal of Bonaparte in their behalf-^ of his 
own audiences with the minister Thue^ut, and the re- 
27* 



318 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

suit — of bis jouiTiey to Hamburg in consequence — 
of his urgent solicitations to be suffered to meet the 
prisoners at Olmutz, and of the arrangements then 
made to receive his answer at Ratisbonne, on the 
way to Hamburg. " At that place," he says, " I shall 
join Madame de Maubourg, and two of her daughters, 
and Madame de Puzy, with her daughter, for whom, 
also, I earnestly requested permission to go with me, 
and receive you at the gate of your citadel ; but it could 
not be allowed. At Hamburg, we shall have the happi- 
ness to embrace you. I am intoxicated with the hope 
that the day is not far distant." It was, in truth, nearer 
than he supposed. 

In announcing their release to Mr. Parish, the Aus- 
trian minister exhibited a specimen of not uncommon 
diplomatic meanness, in denying the agency of France 
in the result, and ascribing it wholly to the peculiar re- 
gard of the emperor for the president and people of the 
United States, and his desire to afford them some defi- 
nite proof of that regard, in the person of Lafayette. 
Washington must, have been overwhelmed with the 
compliment, when he remembered that, for two long 
ypars, his urgent appeals had been lying neglected — 
that his numerous envoys had been treated with con- 
tempt, and sent away empty — that, to every demand 
hitherto, from every source, a flat denial had been given 
— that, in the recent proposals for their release, a condi- 
tion had been annexed of their immediate deportation to 
America, as of felons to the Botany-Bay of freedom, and 
that the flattering token of imperial regard was coldly 
withheld, till the victorious army of France was at the 
gates of his palace, and the sword of the conqueror sus- 
pended over his head. 

On the 19th of September, 1797, Lafayette and his 
friends stepped forth into the light of day, having been 



RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 319 

five years and one month in prison ; three years and four 
months of wliich were passed in the dismal dungeons of 
Olmutz. During all this latter period, they had not seen 
each other's faces, nor held any kind of intercourse, ex- 
cept such as had been stealthily arranged by the ingeni- 
ous devices of Felix and Jules. The presence of his 
vs^ife and daughters, during the last twenty-two months 
of his captivity, had done much to restore the health of 
Lafayette, which had well nigh sunk under an oppres- 
sive anxiety for their welfare. His hair, which had en- 
tirely fallen off in one of the fevers which threatened 
his life in the early part of his confinement, was now 
partially restored, and he appeared to his friends to have 
suffered but little from his long incarceration. 

But, though out of prison, the captives were not abso- 
lutely free. So formidable a personage as Lafayette need- 
ed unusual watching, and many solemn guaranties were 
required, before the puissant emperor, and the mighty em- 
pire, of Austria could feel safe in letting him loose. As 
with Gulliver in Lilliput, they seemed to fear that he would 
crush them under his feet. The ground trembled as he 
walked. They would gladly have put him in a balloon, 
and sent him through the air to America, lest revolutions 
should spring up in the highways, as he journeyed, or trees 
of liberty grow in his footprints. He was accordingly put 
under a military escort, commanded by a major in the 
Austrian army, charged to convey him to Hamburg, and 
deliver him into the hands of the baron de Buol, his 
majesty's minister to the states of Lower Saxony, by 
whom he was to be formally surrendered to the Ameri- 
can consul, under the pledge already exacted, that he 
should be carried beyond the boundaries of Austria 
within ten days after his arrival at Hamburg. 

The journey consumed sixteen days, it being neces- 
sary to travel very slowly on account of the extreme 



320 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

weakness of Madame Lafayette. She had been seri- 
ously ill more than a year, but v»'as now convalescent. 
At Dresden, they were unexpectedly met by Romeuf, 
with the families of Maubourg and De Puzy, the wife 
of the latter having but one daughter, five years old, 
whom the father had never seen. The prisoners re- 
ceived, in all parts of the route, but especially at Dres- 
den, Leipsig, and Halle, the most affecting testimonials 
of interest from the friends of liberty, of whom Germany, 
though ruled, in some of its sections, with a rod of iron, 
has always had a numerous band. 

Hamburg is one of the Hanse-towns, or free cities of 
Germany, having an extensive commerce with the world. 
The representatives of all nations are there, and there 
the guarded captives found a welcome from their own 
countrymen, from Americans, from Englishmen, from 
noble-spirited, independent Germans, Prussians, and men 
of every name and language. They entered the city on 
the 4th of October. An immense crowd of people 
witnessed their arrival. The streets were lined with 
thousands who came, from idle curiosity, to see the 
lions, or from personal sympathy and interest, to give 
them a fitting reception. The house of Mr. Parish, the 
consul, was thronged with personal friends, some of 
whom had never seen Lafayette, but many of whom 
were bound to him by long years of devoted friendship. 
A lane was formed, and they passed into the private 
room of the consul, amid the vivats of the multitude, and 
the warm though silent congratulations of friends. La- 
fayette led the way ; his wife, in a state of extreme de- 
bility, leaning heavily on his arm. His two daughters 
followed, while Maubourg and De Puzy, with their wives 
and children, and the gallant Romeuf, brought up the 
rear. 

In the house of an American, they felt that they were 



RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 321 

free indeed. Lafayette embraced the consul with a 
warmth which showed that five years of imprisonment, 
under imperial jailers, had in no degree lessened his 
love for his friends, or his attachment to the American 
name. His wife and children gathered round him, and 
expressed, in the warmest terms, the grateful joy they 
experienced in meeting him who was made the instru- 
ment of their deliverance. 

In the midst of this scene, the baron de Buol entered. 
After the usual courtesies of an introduction, they re- 
tired to an inner room, accompanied by the baron's 
secretary, the commanding officer of the escort, and Mr. 
Morris, late American minister at Paris. Here the 
baron made a very handsome address to the prisoners, 
dwelling chiefly upon the satisfaction he felt in deliver- 
inof them over to the care of a friend, who loved and re- 
spected them so much. He then addressed a few com- 
plimentary words to the consul, reminding him of his en- 
gagements to the emperor, and of the condition on which 
this transfer was made, viz., to have the prisoners removed 
beyond the limits of Germany within ten days from that 
hour. Then, turning again to Lafayette, with an official, 
yet courteous smile, he said, " You are now free." Yes, 
and he was free indeed, though bound to leave Germany 
in ten days, and never voluntarily to return. Thanks 
to the spirit of our free institutions, the custody of an 
American consul, under bonds, is perfect freedom, in 
comparison with the best aspects of liberty in the do- 
minions of the emperor of Austria. 

Remaining in Hamburg only so long as was necessary 
for rest, and the aiTangement of their personal affairs, 
they used all diligence to leave the realms of his impe- 
rial majesty for some more hospitable region. The first 
act of freedom in which they indulged, was an expres- 
sion of gratitude to General Bonaparte, for the lively 



322 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

interest and efficient zeal he had manifested in securing 
their liberation. This joint letter, dated Hamburg, Oc- 
tober 6, 1797, commences thus : " Citizen-general : The 
prisoners of Olmutz, happy in owing their deliverance 
to the kindness of their country, and to your irresistible 
arms, have, during their captivity, enjoyed the thought 
that their liberty and their lives were associated with the 
triumphs of the republic, and with your personal glory. 
It would have aiforded us the sincerest pleasure, could 
we offer in person these sentiments of gratitude, and 
see, on the theatre of so many victories, the army which 
achieved them, and the hero who has added to his many 
miracles of power our resurrection. But you know that 
the journey to Hamburg was not left to our choice. It 
is the place where we have said our last adieu to our 
jailers, and where we can address our thanks to their 
conqueror." 

To General Clarke, then just deposed from the office 
of minister of war, and in disgrace with the ever-change- 
ful Directory — to M. Talleyrand, minister of foreign 
relations — to Masclet — to Messrs. Bollmann and Huger 
— to General Fitzpatrick, and others, who had mani- 
fested so warm an interest in their deliverance, they ad- 
dressed similar notes of congratulation and thanks. 

To Huger, Lafayette thus writes : " Behold the friend 
whom you so generously undertook to rescue from his 
captivity, and who, in the first moment of his return to 
liberty and life, hastens, with a throbbing heart, to offer 
you the tribute of an inexpressible aflection, and a 
boundless gratitude. That which you did for me, the 
manner of doing it, my heroic friend, attaches me to you 
by eternal bonds of admiration and gratitude. Your 
sufferings, your dangers, supported with such nobleness 
and intrepidity, did not find in me a corresponding firm- 
ness. I was tortured with such unspeakable agony and 



RESTORED TO LIBERTY. 323 

suspense, which my keepers were forbidden to relieve, 
that my life was endangered by my sufferings; and it 
was only preserved by the joyful tidings of your deliv- 
erance, which, in spite of the cruel obstacles to prevent 
it, I had the happiness to receive. In vain shall I at- 
tempt to describe to you my feelings, when this consoling 
assurance was secretly conveyed to me." 

The letter to General Fitzpatrick enumerates a large 
number of English fiiends, to whom he took occasion 
to acknowledge the same obligations — Fox, Sheridan, 
Grey, Tarleton, Smith, Jekyl, Whitbread, Lord Lau- 
derdale, the duke of Bedford, Wilberforce, and the duch- 
ess of Devonshire, all of whom, with Clarkson, and many 
others, had exerted their utmost influence to procure his 
release. Nor was this interest for his welfare, in Engf- 
land, confined to persons in public life, or to mere so- 
licitations, letters, essays, and speeches, in his behalf. 
It pervaded the liberal portion of society, and moved to 
acts of noble generosity the hearts of persons unknown 
to the great world, and unambitious of the distinctions 
of public life. Among these was a Mrs. Edwards, of 
whom Lafayette knew nothing but her name, and that 
only from a letter received at Hamburg from the executor 
of her estate, with the following extract from her will : — 

"I bequeath to M. Lafayette, general of the French 
army, at present a prisoner in Prussia, whose character 
has always appeared to me virtuous and noble — I be- 
queath to him, or, if his death should occur before my 
own, I give to his widow and children, the sum of one 
thousand pounds sterling, to be paid to him, or to those 
who may be authorized to receive it, with interest at 
four per cent., from the day of my death to the time when 
it shall be paid over. If they continue in adversity, this 
trifle will be of use to them ; if not, I am sure they will 
not disdain this humble offering of sincere respect." 



324 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

A similar tribute, from another English lady, whose 
name is not given, amounting to three thousand pounds 
sterling, was received some time after, during his resi- 
dence in Holstein. All his property in France having 
been confiscated, these substantial tokens of a world's 
esteem came like special intei'positions of Providence, 
to sustain him in his singular position, when, proscribed 
in his own country, an outcast from his paternal inher- 
itance, he sought, as a citizen of the world, a temporary 
resting-place on neutral ground. 

Having acknowledged, and so far discharged, these 
debts of the heart — having received and returned the 
congratulatory visits of his aides-de-camp, of the Bata- 
vian minister, of the American consul, of Archenholtz, 
of Klopstock, the patriot-poet, and of many other 
friends, of both hemispheres — having received the hos- 
pitality of public levees from Mr. Parish and from the 
French minister, a splendid entertainment on board an 
American vessel in the harbor, and an address from all 
the Americans in the city, Lafayette and his companions 
took leave of Hamburg, and the Austrian domain, on 
the 10th of October, and passed over into Holstein, a 
dependancy of the king of Denmark. De Puzy was 
detained some time at Altona, on matters of business. 
The rest of the party went on as far as Wittmold, the 
temporary residence of Madame de Tesse, near the vil- 
lage of Ploen, where accommodations had been provi- 
ded for them, and where they had the happiness of being 
welcomed by Madame de Tesse, the aunt, and Madame 
de Montague, the sister, of Madame Lafayette. About 
a month after, they took possession of the castle of 
Lemkhulen, in the near vicinity of Wittmold, where they 
enjoyed a calm and healthful retirement of nearly two 
years. 



TWO YEARS IN EXILE. 325 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

TWO YEARS IN EXILE RETURN TO FRANCE. 

In their beautiful retreat at Lemkhulen, the prisoners 
of Olmutz enjoyed a luxury of repose, contrasting pow- 
erfully, not more with the gloomy monotony of their long 
and painful captivity, than with the stormy scenes of 
revolution and war which preceded it. It was a luxury 
which they all required, to prepare for the active duties 
of the future. The family circle of Lafayette was com- 
pleted by the return of George from America, in Februa- 
ry, 1798. He had been two years in the family of Wash- 
ington, where he had gained the esteem, affection, and 
confidence, of all who had the pleasure of his acquaint- 
ance. Soon after his return, Anastasie, the eldest daugh- 
ter, was united in marriage to Charles-Latour-Maubourg, 
a younger brother of Victor Maubourg, the devoted 
friend and fellow-prisoner of Lafayette. 

As the health of Madame Lafayette improved, so 
as to justify the experiment, the general promised him- 
self a visit to America ; but, in view of the delicate re- 
lations of our government with the Directory of France, 
at that time, involving some questions of serious import, 
and wearing a threatening aspect, he deemed it prudent 
to delay, lest the wakeful jealousy of political adversa- 
ries should turn the movement to his own disadvantage, 
or to that of the LTnited States. 

In connection with Bureau de Puzy, he employed some 

28 



326 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

of his leisure hours, in collecting and arranging the inci- 
dents of his past life, and especially of his public career, 
in a manuscript entitled, " Historical Fragments." These 
papers are of great value, showing, with the force of truth, 
the acts of the nation, of the king, of parties, of individ- 
uals, with brief sketches of their characters, by one who, 
more than almost any other man, could say, " Quorum, 
pa7's, magna fui." 

By invitation from the government of the Batavian 
republic (formerly the seven United Provinces, now the 
kingdom of Holland), in the establishment of whose liber- 
ty Lafayette had rendered essential service, in the day of 
his prosperity and power, he left his retreat at Holstein, 
in the early part of 1799, and proceeded to Utrecht. 
Here he could be nearer home, and hold more ready 
and frequent intercourse with his wife, who had been 
obliged to go to France, for the settlement of some im- 
portant family affairs. To accomplish this journey, he 
was fuiTiished with two passports from Mr. Abema, the 
Batavian minister at Hamburg — one under the name 
of Motier, to protect his passage through Hanover, and 
one under his own proper name, for the states of the 
republic. 

At Utrecht, Lafayette was received with every mark of 
respect. He felt like a new man, in treading once more 
the soil of freedom. Writing to Masclet, on the 7th of 
March, he says : " I have experienced the most lively 
satisfaction, in finding myself on this side the border. 
Though the tolerance of Holstein was so comprehensive 
that even I was not excluded, it was uncomfortable to 
live under one of those ancient governments which have 
been declared incompatible with my principles. Here 
I find good institutions, and good opinions — liberty, civil 
and religious — the government well disposed, and the 
governed well informed of their rights and their duties." 



\ 



TWO YEARS IN EXILE. 327 

His old friends, both Dutch and French, clustered around 
him, and testified, in the waraiest manner, their unchange- 
able affection and respect. It was earnestly desired by 
many that he should at once return to France ; but the 
Directory was jealous of his influence, and would not 
erase his name from the list of the proscribed. Before 
his release, Lally-Tolendal had proposed, and Archen- 
holtz had seconded the suggestion, that Lafayette was the 
only man who, by his influence with the National Guards, 
and with the numerous constitutionalists throughout 
France, was capable of arresting the horrible massacres 
of the reign of terror, and that a proper representation 
to the allied powers would secure his release for this 
end. But those powers were more afraid of liberty than 
of anarchy. They sought the re-establishment of the 
monarchy, rather than the restoration of peace and or- 
der. *' True," they replied, " Lafayette would, as in 
1792, save his and our friends ; but he would turn all to 
the advantage of liberty." 

The celebrated Madame de Stael, on the first intima- 
tion of Napoleon's purpose to demand his release, wrote 
to Lafayette, saying: " Come directly to France. There 
is no other country for you. You will here find the re- 
public which your opinions aspired to, when your con- 
science bound you to royalty. You are, as a hero, as a 
martyr, so allied to liberty, that I pronounce her name 
and yours indifferently, to express all that I desire for 
'the honor and liberty of France." 

This was the common sentiment among the true patri- 
ots of France ; but they, unfortunately, were not in the 
ascendant. Even Napoleon, while insisting upon his 
liberation from Olmutz, would gladly have marred the 
act, by a condition that he should not return to France. 
With his own hand he added a clause, to that effect, to 
the stipulations of the Directory. And now, in the same 



328 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

spirit, General Brune, commander of the French forces 
near Utrecht, complained to the governments of France 
and Holland, that his residence there was a grievance, 
and not to be endured. If the Batavians had show^n any 
sympathy with this narrow jealousy, the noble prescript 
would indeed have found himself in a most serious di- 
lemma. Germany was forbidden ground. Holstein was 
threatened with an invasion from Russia. The way was 
not yet clear to America. England, under the adminis- 
tration of Pitt, though she might not forbid him a ref- 
uge, could not afford him a hospitable reception. As 
he said in his letter to Archenholtz, during his early im- 
prisonment at Magdebourg : " To the dangers of an es- 
cape from these barriers, guards, and chains, are added 
those of a flight through the enemy's country, and an 
asylum. From Constantinople to Lisbon, from Ram- 
schatka to Amsterdam (for I am not in favor with the 
house of Orange), only bastiles await me. The forests 
of the Hurons and the Iroquois are peopled with my 
friends. The despots of Europe, and their courts, are 
savages to me. Though I am not beloved at St. James, 
that is a nation of laws ; but I would avoid a country at 
war with my own." 

His friend Bureau de Puzy, having embarked for 
America, was captured by an English vessel, and de- 
tained at Yarmouth. Alluding to this circumstance, he 
wrote to his wife, playfully, saying, " If I had not a ref- 
uge here, I should be compelled to live with the fishes, 
for all the avenues are closed If the aerial squad- 
ron* makes a good voyage, I shall be tempted to go to 
America in a balloon." 

The revolution was drawing to a close. With the 
last pulses of the expiring century, the volcano was dy- 

* Blanchard, the aeronaut, and Lalande, the asti'onomer, were about 
making a public experiment of five balloons in a group. 



TWO YEARS IN EXILE. 329 

mg" out. The violence of the eruption had exhaust- 
ed its fury. The convulsion had been terrible. The 
ruin was widespread and immeasurable ; the reaction 
universal. The cycle of experiment was nearly com- 
plete. Power, which had been wrenched from despo- 
tism by liberty, from liberty by faction, from faction by 
anarchy, was stealing back from the many to the few — 
from the divided, jealous, uncertain few, to the consoli- 
dated, despotic one. The old golden chain, that had 
held France enthralled for ages, had been broken and 
flung away ; but a mighty one of iron, with massive 
links and bolts, was forging. The kingdom had been 
demolished to make way, not for liberty, but for a con- 
centrated tyranny — not for a republic, but for the em- 
pire. The mild, the gentle, the generous, the upright, 
the humane Louis XVI., had been sacrificed to make 
room for the consuming despotism of Napoleon. 

The dying throes of anarchy were fearful on account 
of its very weakness. Doubt, distrust, jealousy, pervaded 
the high places of the land. The Ancients were jealous 
of the Council, the Council distrusted the Directory, and 
the Directory, feared, distrusted, hated both. It was a 
house divided against itself; it could not stand. It want- 
ed a leader, a responsible head, whose tried integrity and 
patriotism no one could doubt ; but it wanted him to 
abandon his integrity and patriotism, and work by in- 
trigue. It applied to Lafayette. 

It was during his residence at Utrecht, and a little 
before the dissolution of the old Directory, that Camot, 
the president, sent an emissary to confer with Lafayette. 
He told him that he was soon to be recalled, that it was 
absolutely necessary he should return to France, and that, 
in the new movement which was then contemplated, it 
was desirable that his friends should show themselves. 

Camot had been opposed, in all things, to Lafayette. 
28* 



330 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

The opposition had been personal and bitter, on the part 
of Carnot ; but he flattered himself that he had, in a meas- 
ure, cancelled the memory of the past, by the influence 
he had exerted, as one of the Directory, in forcing open 
the iron gates of Olmutz. 

Lafayette acknowledged his obligations on this point, 
but had no confidence in the political integrity of the 
man, who now professed a desire to establish, through 
him, the liberties of France. " The name of liberty has 
been so abused," said he, " that my friends will not en- 
gage in any movement, without knowing what is pro- 
posed, and how it is to be accomplished. They who 
would return to good principles, will be sure to meet 
those who have never abandoned them ; and they who 
would serve liberty and their country by honest means, 
will always find me ready to co-operate with them. With 
other than such, I can have no sympathies." ^ 

When it was proposed that his name, and those of some 
of his particular friends, should be erased from the list of 
the proscribed, he objected to it as equally arbitrary with 
the original proscription. " It would be more simple and 
just to recall all the emigrants who are not actually in 
arms." Objection being made to Lally-Tolendal, " Not 
only Lally," he replied, " who is a patriot, though a mon- 
archist, but all honest men of his party, whom it is abom- 
inable to proscribe — not only those of my friends who, 
on the 10th of August, shared my fortunes, but the La- 
meths, whom I do not like, but with whom, in this mat- 
ter, I make common cause." 

Intrigue and political conspiracy were the means by 
which the ends proposed were to be brought about. To 
these, Lafayette would not stoop to lend himself. He 
knew thoroughly the men who intended to go forward, 
as well as all the great actors then on the stage. He 
foresaw to what result all the parties, and their endless 



TWO YEARS IN EXILE. 331 

intrigues, were tending. He had, as it were, read the 
horoscope of Napoleon, even before his campaign in 
Egypt.* "As to Bonaparte," said he, "he is the con- 
stable of the conventional party. He can make himself 
the master of France. Doubtless it is he to whom Sieyes 
and his friends are looking. The halo of his glory gives 
him immense advantages." 

In this state of mingled doubt, fear, and. expectation, 
of plots and counter-plots, when none of the leading men 
dared openly to avow an opinion, and few were able to 
maintain one for two days together, Lafayette was full 
of courage and. hope. Writing to Maubourg, he said ; 
" Persuaded, that the first means of success is to dare, 
and seeing that everybody was afraid to compromise 
himself, I have offered, to present myself suddenly at 
Paris, and give the ruling power the alternative to act 
with me, or to assassinate me. I have offered to take 
horse with Beurnonville, Lefebvre, and others, and to 
proclaim and assure liberty in the capital and throughout 
France — liberty for all, and against all." 

To this magnanimous offer, the only reply was, that it 
would be throwing away his life for nothing — that he 
could not succeed. The truth was, they feared he might 
succeed ; and they would not have him with them, ex- 
cept as a corpartner in their schemes, or a tool to exe- 
cute their purposes of self-aggrandizement. He aimed 
only at the good of France ; and this could be sought 
for and secured openly, and by means as honorable in 

* Lafayette was the original projector of the expedition to Egypt. Had 
he possessed the grasping ambition of Napoleon, he might have been its 
fortunate thrice-crowned leader. The project, in his mind, however, was 
comiected with views of humanity, and not of personal aggrandizement, 
or national glory. His object was to secure to France a field for the culti- 
vation of cotton and sugar, to be carried on by free labor, and thus to aid 
his grand scheme of African emancipation, and the elevation of the Afri- 
can race. 



332 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

themselves as tlie end at which they aimed. It was re- 
marked, with surprise, not only in the royal cabinets of 
the allied powers, but in that of the Directory, that, since 
his release from Olmutz, there was nowhere to be seen 
the least trace of his hand in any of the thousand in- 
trigues which, like a mighty net, entangled the political 
movements of France and of all Europe. 

The revolution went convulsively on. Bonaparte ap- 
peared suddenly in Paris. The Directory gave way to 
the Consulate, with Napoleon at its head. This was in 
November, 1799, seven weeks before the close of the 
century. Lafayette had foreseen the change, and was 
prepared for it. He had measured the ambition of Na- 
poleon, and, notwithstanding the certain demise of an- 
archy, and the nominal return of the nation to the liberal 
and safe principles of '89, he felt a chill of distrust and 
apprehension, from the mystic premonitions of that 
mighty despotism, which already began to " cast its 
shadow before." To all it held out the promise, to the 
short-sighted tKe hope, of republican liberty. France 
was in a blaze of joy. The tidings spread rapidly, 
and the banished and proscribed, in all Europe, hailed 
it as the signal of their return to the homes of their 
youth. 

When the news reached Utrecht, the commandant of 
the city, recognising, amid the general rejoicing, the 
principles on which this new revolution was based, and 
the true source from which they sprung, gave out for the 
password, in the orders of the day, " Liberty, Paris, and 
Lafayette^ Romeuf, the indefatigable aide, the devo- 
ted friend, followed on the wings of the same wind that 
wafted these tidings, bearing a passport to his general, 
under a feigned name, with a message from his wife, 
advising that, if he proposed returning to France, he 
should do it without delay. Two hours after, he was on 



RETURN TO FRANCE. 333 

the road to Paris, accompanied by his son and the gal- 
lant Romeuf. 

Immediately on his arrival at the capital, he threw off 
his disguise, and wrote to the consuls, announcing his 
return, and demanding to be restored to his rights as a 
French citizen. To Napoleon he wrote thus : " From 
the day when the prisoners of Olmutz owed their liberty 
to you, to this, when the liberty of my country lays me . 
undei" still gi'eater obligations to you, I have thought 
that the continuance of my proscription was not expedi- 
ent for the government, or for myself. Accordingly, I 
am now in Paris. Before going into the country, where 
I shall meet my family — before even seeing my fiiends 
here, I delay not a moment to address myself to you ; 
not that I doubt that I am in my appropriate place, wher- 
ever the republic is founded upon worthy bases, but be- 
cause both my duty and my feelings prompt me to bear 
to you in person the expression of my gratitude." 

This note was delivered by General Clarke. Bona- 
parte was disconcerted and displeased. He had been 
outgeneralled by the boldness and frankness of Lafay- 
ette. He had supposed that the proscribed patriot 
would remain in exile, and make a formal application to 
be restored to his rights, which, under various diplomatic 
pretexts, he could delay or deny, as long as it should 
suit his pleasure to do so. He did not desire his pres- 
ence in France. He feared his popularity, and the con- 
stancy of his principles, which were proof alike against 
corruption and fear. There was probably no one of the 
absentees who would not have been more cordially wel- 
comed by the first consul than Lafayette. But he was 
taken by surprise. He could not complain or resist, for 
he had just made a public profession of those principles 
which Lafayette had always acknowledged, and in ac- 
cordance with which he should have been instantly re- 



384 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

called. " We will have the republic. We will have it 
founded on genuine liberty — on the representative sys- 
tem. We will have it. I swear in my own name, and 
in the name of my companions-in-arms." 

The plausible, omniform intriguer, Talleyrand, busied 
himself in the matter. Seeking an interview with La- 
fayette, he depicted the rage of the consul at his au- 
dacious return, threatened him with violent measures, 
besought him not to expose his friends to destroy them- 
selves by taking his part, and concluded by urging him 
to return immediately to Holland. 

With heroic dignity and self-respect, he assured his 
adviser that he would not compromise any one in his 
movements ; that, having judged it expedient to return to 
France, it was now for the consul to judge if it was ex- 
pedient to let him remain there in peace ; and, that the 
only effect of an imperious and menacing tone would be, 
to confirm him in the course he had taken. Talleyrand 
continued to press his solicitations, by various motives, 
till after midnight, but without effect. As Lafayette re- 
tired, with his friend Romeuf, he observed to the supple 
courtier, " What a fine joke it would be, if I should be 
arrested at night by the National Guard of Paris, and 
placed in the temple, the next day, by the restorer of the 
principles of '89 !" 

That no one might be compromitted by his relations 
with the government, Lafayette commissioned his wife 
to make the necessary explanations with the consuls. 
She was graciously received by Bonaparte, who repre- 
sented to her, without clearly explaining his meaning, 
that the arrival of her husband would check his own 
efforts for the re-establishment of the principles of lib- 
erty — that he should be obliged " to take in sail." " You 
can not understand me, madame," said he, " but General 
Lafayette will understand me. I conjure him to avoid 



RETURN TO FRANCE. 335 

all publicity. I put it to his patriotism." She replied, 
that it had always been his intention to retire into the 
bosom of his family. The consul left her, to attend a 
meeting of the council, where he was observed to be in 
a very bad humor. 

Lafayette did understand the consul fully, but not as 
the consul intended he should. Napoleon had not yet 
reached the position where even he would venture to lay 
a rude hand upon Lafayette. His strides to despotic 
power were gigantic ; but he had a few more to take, 
before he could feel secure in placing his iron heel upon 
the neck of even a proscribed patriot. He must put on 
the cap of liberty, to blind the eyes of the people, till the 
dictator's rod and the imperial crown were made ready. 

Other efforts were made to induce Lafayette to return 
to exile in Holland, or to embark for America, with- 
out any promise that his name would be erased from the 
black-list of the government. Talleyrand was the chief 
mover in these attempts, and Volney was one of his em- 
issaries. Lafayette simply replied, that he made no ac- 
count of the menaces of Bonaparte ; that, having seized 
the moment when the liberal professions of the govern- 
ment rendered his return decent, and having removed 
the principal obstacles to the return of his friends, he 
should retire to the country, as a private citizen, and 
await the act of justice which should restore him to his 
rights as such. 

The dignity of his deportment on this occasion, and 
the unimpeachable puiity of his patriotism, completely 
foiled his adversaries. Bonaparte was deeply incensed, 
to find himself checkmated in a game for which he 
thought he had prepared himself more than two years 
before, when he made his first move by inserting, in the 
preliminaries of the treaty of Leoben, a proviso of per- 
petual banishment from France for the prisoners of 01- 



33G LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

mutz. But Bonaparte was not yet crowned. He was a 
mere military politician, tliough an unusually bold one. 
He did not dare openly to confirm and execute the decree 
of proscription. He adopted the more prudent course 
of absolute silence. He wished, if possible, to consign 
to oblivion the man whom he dared not destroy or even 
to oppress. A very remarkable instance of this course of 
proceeding was exhibited in the early part of February, 
1800, when funeral services, in honor of G-eneral Wash- 
ington, were solemnized in Paris. Fontanes delivered 
the eulogy, but under a strict injunction, from the con- 
sul, that Lafayette should not be named or alluded to in 
the discourse. No member of his family was invited to 
attend the ceremony, nor any of the Americans in Paris. 
The journals of the day, in noticing the proceedings, 
make no mention of any American being present, but 
severely censure the orator for having forgotten the he- 
roes of the United States, to pay court to the hero of 
Egypt. The bust of Washington was draped on the 
occasion, not with the flag of free America and of the 
republics of Europe, but with the standards taken by 
Napoleon in Europe, Asia, and Africa. The first con- 
sul was installed at the Tuileries on the very day when 
Fontanes' pseudo-eulogy was published. 



RELATIONS WITH NAPOLEON. 337 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

HIS RELATIONS WITH NAPOLEON TWELVE YEARS' RE- 
TIREMENT AT LAGRANGE. 

When the now constitution was presented by the con- 
suls for the acceptance of the people, the name of La- 
fayette was yet on the list of the proscribed. He was 
consequently unable to vote. Had he possessed the light, 
he would have voted against an instrument which, to use 
his own words, " sacrificed the guaranties of liberty to 
those of self-love." He was, therefore, more than ever 
an object of jealousy to the ruling power, and much 
diplomacy was employed to get him out of the way. 
But, regardless of intrigues and menaces, he remained 
in Paris till he had secured the restoration of the riofhts 
of citizenship to himself, his comrades, and some of his 
family friends. The former was accomplished by a de- 
cree of the 1st of March, 1800. During the pendency 
of this question, he had no intei*view with Napoleon. 

These remarkable men perfectly understood each 
other's character and aims. Lafayette admired the ge- 
nius, and was fascinated with the military glory of Na- 
poleon ; but he was sensible of his towering ambition, 
and had no confidence in his moral principles. Napo- 
leon respected and admired the consistency, firmness, 
and purity of Lafayette, while he feared and hated him 
for these very qualities. He knew that he could not be 
intimidated, and therefore he feared him ; he knew that 
29 



338 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

he could not be bought, and therefore he hated him. 
" Nobody in the world," said he to one of his generals, 
" is so hated by the enemies of liberty, and of France, as 
Lafayette. I, who negotiated his deliverance, well know 
what price the foreign powers placed upon his deten- 
tion." As a tyrant, as the arch-enemy of liberty in 
France, Napoleon shared and manifested the same feel- 
ing. When a general call was made upon all good citi- 
zens to press into the volunteer service, to repel inva- 
sion, a proposal was made to engage Lafayette in the 
work, and use the influence of his name. *' Yes," re- 
plied Napoleon, " he would aid us in this ; but, in other 
things, he might be in our way." On the eve of the 
battle of Marengo, which was preceded by reverses to 
the French arms in Italy, and in reference to which there 
were great apprehensions for Napoleon, Lafayette wrote 
a letter to the general, and gave it in charge to his son, 
George Washington, a volunteer in the regiment of hus- 
sars, asking permission, in case of defeat, to join the 
army as a volunteer. The letter was not to be delivered 
till after the battle. Napoleon was victorious, as usual, 
and therefore did not receive it ; but the fact of the offer 
it contained was made known to him by some of his 
officers. It affected him sensibly. " Which of yoUy 
gentlemen," said he, turning to the generals about him, 
" could have done better than that ]" 

Of this victory, and the man who achieved it, Lafayette 
spoke thus : " It is clear that Bonaparte was there, as 
everywhere else, the great captain. That which is espe- 
cially admirable, and indeed the most beautiful act of 
his life, is his noble abandonment of the central post at 
Paris, where he was scarcely yet established, to climb 
the Alps and gain the battles of France ; a greatness, 
the glory of which belongs to him alone, and which has 
always so excited me, that I am even now indignant to 



RELATIONS WITH NAPOLEON. 339 

think that the same man could believe that an imperial 
robe would add to his greatness." 

Having regained his rights as a citizen, he sought an 
interview with Napoleon. He was presented, by Consul 
Lebrun, at the Tuileries, Bonaparte received him with 
an air of frankness and courtesy, reminding him, to use 
his own words, " of the cordial welcome he had formerly 
received from Frederick the Great." After the usual 
compliments on both sides, he replied to felicitations 
upon his success in Italy, by giving the credit of that 
success chiefly to Moreau. Then, speaking of the for- 
eign powers, he added, with a very gracious smile, "I 
do not know what you have done to them, but they had 
extreme reluctance to let you go." 

He was soon after introduced to Joseph Bonaparte, 
who met him with great cordiality and politeness, com- 
plimented him upon the events of his early life, and in- 
vited him to a fete he was about to give to the commis- 
sioners, who had just concluded a treaty of amity with 
the United States. There he met with old friends and 
old associations, and was the object of universal regard. 
The American ministers, his old colleagues in the Na- 
tional Assembly, his comrades of the National Guard 
and of the army, the new generals of the last revolution, 
the first consul, and all the Bonaparte family, were pres- 
ent at this festival. Lafayette, as usual, was manly and 
undisguised in the expression of his views. In a private 
conversation with the first consul, he freely advocated 
the claims of liberty and of France, and set forth the 
true course of glory for him who would guide her des- 
tinies. 

" I find the French people," said Napoleon, " are 
growing cool with respect to liberty." 

"Yes," replied Lafayette ; "but they are in a condi- 
tion to receive it." 



340 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

" They are pretty well surfeited," rejoined tlie consul. 
"You, Parisians, for example. Oh! the shop-keepers 
want no more of it." 

" They are in a condition to receive it," repeated his 
guest, with emphasis ; adding, " I do not use that ex- 
pression lightly, general ; I am aware of the crimes and 
follies which have profaned the name of liberty ; but 
the French are more than ever, perhaps, in a conditiou 
to receive it. It is for you to bestow it. It is for you 
that we wait." 

The consul then spoke, without reserve, of the military 
and political interests of France, of the intrigues of the 
royalists, and of the co-operation of extreme parties to 
the same result, in which he exhibited " a simplicity 
of genius, depth of intellect, and quickness of observa- 
tion," which surprised and gratified his companion. In 
reply to an allusion from the consul to his campaigns in 
America, Lafayette exclaimed, " The grandest interests 
of the universe were decided in that contest." He then 
spoke of the idea of some of the American politicians to 
make, for the United States, a presidency for life. The 
consul's eyes flashed at the suggestion. Lafayette add- 
ed, " That, with a national representation and suitable 
checks, would be just the thing for France." The con- 
sul regarded him with fixed attention, while he proceeded 
to give him some details respecting the chief magistracy 
of the United States, the duties of which were discharged 
without guards or military pageant ; to which he re- 
plied, " But you will agree that, in France, this would 
not do." At this interview, Lafayette solicited and ob- 
tained the erasure, from the black list, of the names of 
his aged relatives, M. and Madame de Tesse. 

Napoleon often alluded to the peculiar personal hatred 
of the kings and cabinets of Europe to the name of La- 
fayette. " I am sufficiently hated," said he, " by the 



RELATIONS WITH NAPOLEON. 341 

princes and their courtiers ; but it is nothing to their 
hatred for you. I have been so situated as to see it, and 
I could not have believed that human hatred could 20 
so far." He then added, " How is it possible that the 
republicans could be so foolish as to suppose that their 
cause could be separated from yours ] But now they 
do you justice — yes, complete justice." 

"General Lafayette," said he at another time, "you 
have overturned the strongest monarchy that existed. 
Behold all the monarchies of Europe ! Ours was the 
best constituted. It was a beautiful and a difficult en- 
tei-prise ; but you committed a great fault, in wishing to 
preserve, in such a revolution, the ancient dynasty ; for, 
if you refused it absolute power, the government could 
not go on ; if you granted it, it would be employed 
against you. The problem was incapable of solution." 
Lafayette replied, " It is certainly soothing to my self- 
love, to find that you regard as insoluble the problem on 
which we have been wrecked. But the public will, in 
which we found at once our means and our duties, 
equally demanded all the elements of a democratic re- 
public, and the presei'vation of the king. It demanded 
a Bourbon ; it demanded Louis XVI. It was this that 
produced the constitutional amalgam of '91. It was by 
no means perfect, but it commanded, for the time, the 
confidence of the nation ; and that, sir, is the mainspring, 
the only sure foundation, of all political institutions." 
To this the consul assented, and at the same time ac- 
knowledged, that if the Jacobin proscription of the first 
chiefs, and the first principles of the revolution, had not, 
in 1792, an-ested the general movement, which the coa- 
lition of the emigrants and the kings only sei-ved to ac- 
celerate, all Europe would in ten years have been im- 
bued with the doctrines of the " Declaration of Rights." 

On the opening of the senate by Napoleon, Lafayette 
29* 



342 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

was nominated as a member. His acceptance of the 
seat, so honorable and so attractive, was strongly desired 
and solicited by some of the most prominent of the re- 
publican party, his old colleagues of the Gironde ; to 
whom he replied, that, having refused to the Jacobins 
the sanction of his silence, when his command of the 
array was at stake, he could not accord the tacit appro- 
bation of his co-operation to the measures then in prog- 
ress. 

At the same time, he was urgently solicited to accept 
an embassy to the United States, with the assurance that 
his compliance would be most agreeable to the head of 
the government. His characteristic reply was, that " he 
was too much an American to be able to act the part of 
a stranger there." The matter was urged upon him 
from several quarters ; but he could not reconcile his 
personal relations to America, and his American feel- 
ings, with the coldness and distance of a diplomatic func- 
tionary. He could not be a foreigner, much less the 
watchful representative of a foreign government, in 
Washington. He was a citizen both of the United 
States and of France, and he could no more denation- 
alize himself in one country than in the other. 

Unsuccessful in securing this object, the consul, 
through his supple instrument, Talleyrand, renewed his 
request that Lafayette would accept a place in the sen- 
ate ; to which he jocosely objected, that, if he went 
there, he should be under obligations at once to de- 
nounce the government and its chief. General Dumas 
soon after waited on him, by order of the first consul, to 
ask an explanation of the attitude of censure, if not of 
hostility, which he had assumed. " No one likes to be 
regarded as a tyrant," said Napoleon to Dumas ; " La- 
fayette seems to consider me one." — "The silence of 
my retirement," replied Lafayette, "is the maximum of 



RELATIONS WITH NAPOT,EON. 343 

my submission. If Bonaparte had wished to serve the 
cause of liberty, I would have been wholly devoted to 
him ; but I can neither approve of an arbitrary govern- 
ment, nor take any part in it." In accordance with this 
sentiment, firmly and repeatedly declared, he refused nu- 
merous other solicitations to take part in the councils 
of the government, even in the humblest and most un- 
important station. To the minister who waited on him 
to request his acceptance of a place in the council of 
the department of Seine and Marne, he replied, that he 
should be like the obstinate boy at school, who refused 
to say <z, through fear that he should afterward be obliged 
to say h. He afterward, however, accepted the office of 
departmental elector of that department, because the 
preservation of the right of election was the result of 
popular suffrage. 

It was matter of no little uneasiness with Bonaparte, 
that, in restoring Lafayette to his rights as a French cit- 
izen, he restored him, also, to his rank in the army. It 
was to withdraw him from this, that he proposed to ele- 
vate him to the senate. " You have yet too much love 
of activity," said he, "to wish to be a senator." — "It is 
not that," replied the general ; " but I feel that retire- 
ment would suit me better." Having added to this, that 
he wished also to retire from the army, the consul evin- 
ced great satisfaction, and accorded to him at once all 
that was due to a retired officer of the highest grade. 

In 1802, Lord Cornwallis was commissioned, on the 
part of the government of England, to negotiate a treaty 
with France. Lafayette was invited to dine with him, 
at the house of Joseph Bonaparte. The tendency of 
the new government was sufficiently apparent to the 
British minister, who was somewhat sarcastic, in relation 
to it, in his conversations with Lafayette. The next time 
they met, Napoleon exclaimed, " Lord Cornwallis pre- 



344 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

tends that you are not yet corrected." — "Of what f 
demanded Lafayette — " of my love of liberty 1 "What 
should disgust me with that '? The extravagances and 
crimes of terrorist tyranny have only served to make me 
hate more heartily every arbitrary regime, and attach 
myself more strongly to my principles." — "But you 
have spoken to him of our affairs," said the consul, some- 
what sternly. " No one is farther than myself," replied 
the general, " from seeking a foreign ambassador to cen- 
sure what is passing in my own country ; but if he ask 
me if this is liberty, I must answer. No." — " I must say 
to you. General Lafayette," said the embryo despot, se- 
riously, " and I perceive it with pain, that, by your man- 
ner of speaking of the acts of the government, you give 
its enemies the weight of your name." — "What more 
can I do V urged the uncompromising republican. " I 
live in the country, in retirement. I avoid, as far as 1 
can, occasions of speaking of public affairs ; but when 
any one demands of me if your administration of the 
government is conformable to my ideas of liberty, I shall 
say that it is not. I wish to be prudent ; but I can not 
be false." 

In this bold and decided opposition to the arbitrary 
rule of Napoleon, there was no jealousy, no ambition 
for himself, no personal dislike to the man whom he op- 
posed. This was seen and felt by the consul. " What 
do you mean by an arbitrary regime V he demanded. 
" I allude not to this or that particular act," was the re- 
ply, "but to the tendency of all. It is this tendency, 
general — yes, it is this only, that pains and afflicts me. 
A free government, and you at the head of it, would sat- 
isfy me perfectly." But this did not satisfy the ambition 
of the first consul, nor the subserviency of his parasites. 
He demanded, and obtained, the consulship for life. 
Called upon to vote on this question, Lafayette thus 



LAGRANGE. 345 

protested in writing : " I can not vote for such a magis- 
tracy, until public liberty has been sufficiently guaran- 
tied ; then I will give my vote to Napoleon Bonaparte." 
That his position might be fully understood, he at the 
same time addressed the first consul, dated, " Lasri'ansre, 
May 20, 1802," in which he declared that nothing would 
give him greater pleasure than to see him the chief 
magistrate for life of a free republic. " That," said he, 
" would be the climax of your glory ; but it is in unison 
with my principles, my engagements, the actions of my 
whole life, to ascertain, before I vote, that liberty is es- 
tablished on bases worthy of the nation and of you." 

To this letter, so frank, so manly, so courteous, and, to 
a noble mind, so flattering, Bonaparte made no reply. 
He could not reply, without retracing his steps, or quar- 
relling with the writer. The former he would not do ; 
the latter he was not then in a position to do with safety. 
From this time, all intercourse between the two was 
suspended for twelve years. They did not meet again, 
till after the reverses of the emperor in 1814. 

In the division of the property of the duchess d'Ayen, 
Lagrange, a beautiful estate in the department of Seine 
and Marne, about forty miles east of Paris, fell to the 
share of Madame Lafayette. The old. estate of Cha- 
vagniac had been very much reduced by the confisca- 
tions of the reign of terror. Lagrange had been pre- 
served entire, and, by a decree of the new government, 
was now restored to its original owners. From this 
time, it became the permanent residence of the family. 
It comprises nearly a thousand acres, beautifully distrib- 
uted into wood, lawn, and tillage. The chateau was an 
old baronial castle, with towers, and moats, and draw- 
bridge, and all the obsolete appointments of a feudal for- 
tress. Traces of these are visible on every side, though 



346 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

the baronial manor is reduced to a simple farm, and tlie 
castle to a gentleman's country-seat. 

In the bosom of this quiet and romantic retreat, the 
hero and patriarch sought repose from the toils, perils, 
and honors, of an arduous public life. But full repose 
is seldom found on earth. His was disturbed, first, by a 
serious accident to himself, which occasioned him intense 
suffering for a time, and left him a cripple for life, and, 
not long afterward, by the severest of all domestic afflic- 
tions. After the establishment of peace in 1802, Paris 
was visited by some of the most distinguished of the 
British whigs, among whom were Fox, Fitzpatrick, 
Adair, Erskine, and Lords Holland and Lauderdale. 
Some of them came expressly to see Lafayette, and he 
went up to the metropolis to meet them. While there, 
he accidentally fell upon the pavement, and broke his 
thigh-bone, just below the neck of the hip-joint. The 
surgeons, in reducing the fracture, enclosed the limb in 
a wooden frame, in which, under severe pressure from 
bandages above and below, it was confined more than 
two weeks, without change or relief. Confiding in the 
skill of the surgeons, the patient had borne the pain 
and inconvenience without a word of complaint. When, 
at length, an examination was made, the limb was found 
to be in a most alarming condition. The upper band- 
ages had cut into the muscles, on the inside of the 
thigh, so as to lay bare the femoral artery ; the lower 
ones had produced mortification about the heel, and 
laid bare the tendons of the toes. The fortitude with 
which this severe ojjeration was endured, entirely de- 
ceived the surgeons, leading them to suppose that all 
was going on well. The issue was a tedious confine- 
ment of six months, followed by a permanent lameness 
of the hip-joint. 

In December, 1807, Lafayette, and the family at La- 



RETIREMENT AT LAGRANGE. 347 

grange, were visited by the most painful bereavement 
w^hich it was possible for the heart to endure. Madame 
Lafayette, who, in the language of Segur, " was a model 
of heroism, and, indeed^of every virtue, contracted, during 
her captivity, the disorder which, after years of suffering, 
terminated her life. She died, surrounded by a numer- 
ous family, who offered up earnest prayers for her pres- 
ervation. When unable to speak, a smile played upon 
her lips at the sight of her husband and children. De- 
voted to her domestic duties, which were her only pleas- 
ure — adorned by every virtue — pious, modest, charita- 
ble, severe to herself, indulgent to others — she was one 
of the few whose pure reputation received fresh lustre 
from the misfortunes of the revolution." 

The attachment of Lafayette to the wife of his youth 
was of the purest and most enduring character. It had 
never been clouded or marred by the slightest shadow 
of distrust, or any other sinister influence. To perfect 
respect and confidence, were added the most perfect 
sympathy, and the tenderest regard. And he, who had 
never bowed to sorrow, or shrunk from danger, calam- 
ity, or suffering, was now smitten to the earth. " I wil- 
lingly admit," said he, in a letter responding to the tender 
coiidolence of Masclet, " that, under great misfortunes, I 
have felt myself superior to the situation in which my 
friends had the kindness to sympathize. But, at pres- 
ent, I have neither the power nor the wish to struggle 
against the calamity which has befallen me, or, rather, to 
surmount the deep affliction which I shall caiTy with me 
to the grave. It will be mingled with the sweetest rec- 
ollections of the thirty-four years, during which I was 
bound by the tenderest ties that, pei'haps, ever existed, 
and with thoughts of her last moments, in which she 
heaped upon me such proofs of her incomparable affec- 
tion." 



348 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

These were not words merely. They told truly the 
story of that gi-eat man's love, and of the long widowhood 
which was to bear testimony to its truth. Nearly thirty 
years he continued to cherish the memory, and recall the 
virtues, of the departed. Her private apartment was 
ever after held sacred, and preserved in the same state as 
when she died ; and thither her bereaved partner daily 
repaired, alone, or in company with his children, to re- 
new his homage to her. memory. Her portrait, in a 
small gold medallion, he always wore suspended to his 
neck, and was more than once surprised, by his intimate 
friends, gazing upon it with intense and abstracted emo- 
tion. Around the portrait were the words, " I am yours." 
On the reverse was a touching inscription, in which the 
departed one, anticipating the inevitable separation, ap- 
peals to the beautiful past, when the portrait was taken, 
for the assurance that her image should never be lost, 
till the heart on which it was engraven should cease to 
beat. It was, " I was then a gentle companion to you ! 
In that case bless me." 

The character of Marie Adrienne Fran^aise Noailles 
de Lafayette was combined of all that is admirable in 
female heroism, and lovely in female gentleness, piety, 
and truth. While the greater part of the wives of the 
French refugees and exiles, who remained in France 
during the reign of terror, went through the formality of 
a feigned divorce, and changed their names, to save their 
lives and estates, Madame Lafayette steadfastly refused 
to separate herself and fortunes from those of her hus- 
band. In her petitions and remonstrances to the reign- 
ing powers, she always commenced with this form : 
" La femme LafayetteJ^ She wished only to be recog- 
nised as his wife. She never suffered an aspersion up- 
on his character to pass without repelling it, nor an 
opportunity to manifest his principles, without honor- 



RETIREMENT AT LAGRANGE. 349 

ing them, and declaring that she held them in common 
with him. 

Madame Lafayette was truly pious. Her husband, 
though nominally a Roman catholic, and an admirer of 
the exalted principles of Christianity, was a philosopher 
of the French school. She often expressed to him the 
hope that, in reflecting further, with that honesty of soul 
for which he was distinguished, he would yet be con- 
vinced of the truth. She was wont to speak of religion 
as "the sovereign liberty," hoping thus to attract to it 
his regards, and often, for the same purpose, quoted the 
words of Fauchet, " Jesus Christ, my only master." She 
sometimes, in the delirium of her last moments, expressed 
the thought that she was going to heaven, but seemed 
not satisfied to go without him. " This life is short and 
troubled," she would say ; " we reunite in God ; we pass 
eternity together." She was often engaged in prayer ; 
and her last desire for her husband was, that he might 
possess " the peace of God." She died at the age of 
forty-eight. 

While Napoleon was advancing from victory to vic- 
tory — from Marengo to Moscow — and, with yet more 
rapid and appalling strides, from disaster at Moscow to 
irretrievable discomfiture at Leipsic, and an ignoble ca- 
pitulation at the gates of Paris, Lafayette was enjoying 
the otium cum dignitate of a retirement, as congenial to 
his tastes as it was honorable to his patriotism. He had 
too much confidence in the principles of liberty, to doubt 
their ultimate prevalence. He had too much confidence 
in his countrymen, to believe that they would long sub- 
mit to a military despotism. He calmly awaited its in- 
evitable overthrow, and the return of the people to the 
recos^nition of their natural and inalienable ri^-hts. 

Meanwhile, his position was not without its perils. 
30 



350 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

He was a political anomaly in France— -a citizen, not 
suspected, but known to be cordially and unchangeably 
opposed to the imperial dynasty, and to all the forms and 
principles of the existing government. He was an ob- 
ject of hatred and fear to Napoleon — of hatred, because, 
while he obeyed the laws as a good citizen, he never, by 
word or act, consented to the arbitrary regime of the 
despot — of fear, because his republican integrity was 
alike incorruptible by the threats and the promises of the 
throne, and by the intrigues of its factious opponents. 
His name was more than once maliciously involved with 
the intrigues and conspiracies of mere adventurers, who, 
without means or reason, attempted to overthrow the 
government. The brave Malet suffered death for this 
cause, in October, 1808 ; and it was on this occasion 
that Napoleon flattered himself that Lafayette was too 
surely involved to escape. The conspirators, however, 
denied all connexion with him. Malet not only shielded 
his colleagues, but refused even to defend himself, say- 
ing to the tribunal, when he was summoned to answer, 
*' The defender of the rights of his country has no need 
of a defence — he triumphs, or he dies." 

Though many perished in this way, at different times, 
while Lafayette, by his perfect frankness and fearless- 
ness, remained unharmed, he was the only man whom 
the tyrant truly and always feared. " Gentlemen," said 
he to the council of state, on an occasion when the re- 
establishment of the National Guards was under discus- 
sion, " I know your devotion to the power of the throne. 
Everybody in France is corrected. I know of one man 
only who is not so — Lafayette. He has never drawn 
back a hair-breadth. You see him always quiet and 
calm ; but, I tell you, even now he is ready to begin 
again." — "Your existence," said Beraadotte to Lafay- 
ette, " is truly miraculous. Your peril was even less 



RESTORATION OP THE BOURBONS. 351 

from the character of the emperor, than from the bitter- 
ness of the men of the ancient regime, who irritated him 
against yo^l." 

Napoleon fell, the idol still of the aiTny, but not of 
the people, who were heartily weary of imperial rule, 
with all its costly burden of glory and war. The allied 
sovereigns entered Paris, with their victorious armies, to 
restore the constitutional monarchy, and the ancient dy- 
nasty of the Bourbons, in the person of Louis XVIII. 
This, under different circumstances, and accompanied 
with suitable guaranties, would have realized the long- 
delayed hopes of Lafayette ; but, forced upon the nation 
as it was, by foreign dictation, and sustained by foreign 
bayonets, it was scarcely more acceptable than the ab- 
solute despotism of Napoleon. He would gladly have 
taken up arms, to repel the aggressors, and to vindicate 
the right of France to frame her own government, and 
choose her own rulers ; but his close retirement, and his 
long absence from the arena of public affairs, left him 
without resources or influence to resist this new revo- 
lution. 

Louis XVIII. was scarcely eleven months in posses- 
sion of his throne. It was a period of agitation, discon- 
tent, and doubt, portending another eruption. Lafayette 
took no part in public affairs. The constitutional mon- 
archy would have been acceptable to him, had it been 
the free choice of independent France ; but, constrained 
as it was, it failed to secure either his sympathy or his 
confidence. He went only once to Paris during that 
year. He was then presented at court, and was cordially 
received by the king ; but, having nothing to ask from 
royalty, and seeing nothing to hope for France, he re- 
turned to his farm, and to the quiet pursuits of hus- 
bandry. 

Suddenly the comet, in its eccentric orbit, reappears 



352 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

in the horizon. Napoleon is at Cannes. The gates 
of Grenoble, of Lyons, of Paris, fly open at his coming. 
He stands again in the capital. The Bourbons fly ; the 
nation gathers at the feet of the conqueror. All France 
lifts up the shout, and the heavens reverberate it to the 
ends of the earth, " Vive Vempereur .'" " The hundred 
days" have begun. 

Bonaparte knew and acknow^ledged that his exile had 
been the result of the progress of liberal opinions. He 
therefore proposed to make some concessions to the con- 
stitutional party, and conciliate the sentiment of liberty, 
which still glowed in the bosom of the nation. For this 
end, his brother Joseph sought an interview with Lafay- 
ette, and endeavored to inspire him with confidence in 
this new position of the emperor, fortifying his purpose 
by an appeal to his patriotic pride, which should resist the 
dictation of an invading foe. Lafayette responded, at 
once and heartily, to this last appeal, avowing himself 
always ready to take up arms against any foreign power 
that should touch the soil of France. At the same time, 
he frankly acknowledged that he had no faith in the 
promises of Napoleon, and demanded the pledge of a 
written constitution, to guaranty the liberties of the peo- 
ple. He refused a seat in the chamber of peers, against 
the restoration of which he protested, but was elected a 
representative of the people. 

As he anticipated, the concessions of Napoleon fell 
far short of the demands of the nation. They were alto- 
gether unsatisfactory. The throne overshadowed all 
other powers, and rendered them only subservient to 
one iron will. Lafayette was driven to opposition. He 
insisted upon the formation of a new constitution. He 
demanded that the assembly should assume an attitude 
capable of inspiring confidence, both at home and abroad , 
and that its members should show, at once and decidedly, 



THE HUNDRED DAYS. ^ 353 

whether they were the representatives of the French 
people, or simjoly the Napoleon cluh. 

Meanwhile, the congress of Vienna 'had declared Na- 
poleon an outlaw. The trumpet sounded loud and long 
on every side, and the banded hosts of Europe mustered 
to battle. To every measure of defence against the 
threatened invasion — to every demand of the emperor 
to meet this crisis of his fate, Lafayette gave his cordial 
and decided support. He pressed earnestly the reor- 
ganization of the National Guards. But Napoleon was 
afraid of the free spirit of citizen-soldiers ; he required 
an army of conscripts, and it was granted. At the head 
of one hundred and fifty thousand men, he went forth to 
meet the invaders. 

In a few days he returned, a fugitive and alone, but 
not in despair. Resolved on one desperate effort more 
to retrieve his fortunes, he purposed to sweep away the 
fabric he had begun to raise, dissolve the assembly, as- 
sume the dictatorship, and levy the whole nation in one 
vast army of resistance. Forewarned of this intention, 
Lafayette seized the first moment of their meeting, on 
the followino- morning-, to sound the alarm. 

" The moment has arrived," he said, " for rallying 
round the old tri-colored standard, the standard of 1789, 
of liberty, equality, and public order. It is that stand- 
ard alone which we have to defend against foreign pre- 
tensions and internal intrigues." He then proposed 
that the chamber should declare itself permanent, that 
every attempt to dissolve it should be adjudged high 
treason, and that the National Guards should be imme- 
diately reorganized. These resolutions were adopted 
without discussion, and the last grand move of Napoleon 
was frustrated. 

A secret session was held in the evening, at which it 
was proposed that Napoleon should abdicate. His broth- 
30* 



354 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

er Lucien, who was present, powerfully and eloquently 
vindicated the claims of the emperor, throwing out, in 
the heat of the moment, a sneering allusion to the vola- 
tile and inconstant character of the French people. La- 
fayette sprang to his feet, and, without moving from his 
place, or losing, in his indignation, his wonted compo- 
sure and dignity, exclaimed, " That is a calumnious as- 
sertion. Who shall dare accuse Frenchmen of fickleness 
or inconstancy, with respect to the Emperor Napoleon *? 
Did they not follow him over the sands of Egypt, and 
through the deserts of Russia, over fifty fields of battle, 
in his disasters as well as in his victories ? And it is for 
having thus followed him, that they have to regret the 
blood of three millions of their countrymen." 

Lucien bowed, but ventured no reply. His sneer was 
triumphantly refuted. The whole assembly seconded 
the just rebuke, deeply convinced that their first duty 
was to secure the safety of France, and that the claims 
of the fallen emperor were secondary to that. " Go," 
said Lafayette to Lucien, " tell your brother that we can 
trust him no longer. We will take care of the country 
ourselves." 

Napoleon, having been informed of the proceedings 
of the assembly, summoned a council of the principal 
officers of state, including the vice-presidents of the as- 
sembly, of whom Lafayette was one, and demanded what 
should be done. The council was divided in opinion, 
as hope, or fear, or interest, swayed its members. La- 
fayette was open, clear, and decided, declaring that un- 
qualified abdication was the only safe course for the em- 
peror and for France. 5 

The council was dissolved. Napoleon hesitated ; but, 
the next morning, sent in a formal abdication in favor of 
his son. The assembly accepted the abdication, but took 
no notice of the condition attached to it. A deputation, 



END OP THE HUNDRED DAYS. 355 

with Lafayette at its head, was immediately appointed 
to convey to him the thanks of the assembly for this act 
of patriotic self-sacrifice. " It was an imposing specta- 
cle," says Lafayette — " these nine representatives of the 
people, armed only with the respect due to a National 
Assembly, coming to announce to him who, having sub- 
dued all the sovereigns of Europe, still commanded the 
French army — to his guard, and to an immense host of 
partisans in the faubourgs — that he was no longer em- 
peror, and that the nation resumed the government." 
" The hundred days" were ended. 

A provisional government was established, consisting 
of a council of five — two from the chamber of peers, 
and three from that of the deputies. By the intiigues 
of the Bonapartists on the one hand, and the Bourbon- 
ists on the other, Lafayette was excluded. Fouche, a 
Bourbonist, was made president, and Lafayette was 
placed at the head of a commission to treat with the al- 
lied powers. This was only a ruse to remove him from 
Paris, where his presence and influence would have 
greatly hindered, and perhaps wholly defeated, the in- 
trigues of Talleyrand, Fouche, and their fellow-conspir- 
ators, who had already secretly bargained for a second 
restoration of the Bourbons. 

The conference took place at Haguenau. The com- 
missioners demanded a suspension of hostilities, urging 
that Napoleon, who was the sole cause of the war, was 
now only a private citizen, under the surveillance of the 
government. Lord Stewart, the English ambassador, 
interposed many obstacles to the negotiation, and finally 
defeated it. At one of their conferences, he said, ad- 
dressing himself to Lafayette, " I am bound to advise 
you, sir, that a peace with the allied powers is impossi- 
ble, except on the condition that you deliver over to us 
the person of Bonaparte." — "I am exceedingly aston- 



356 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

ished," replied Lafayette, with emphatic emotion, "that, 
in making so odious a proposition, you should have ad- 
dressed yourself to one of the prisoners of Olmutz." 
His lordship then objected to the legitimacy of the as- 
sembly, under whose authority they acted, since it was 
convoked by the order of Napoleon ; to which Lafay- 
ette replied, that " it was strange enough, that a public 
man from representative England should intimate a 
doubt that the authority of a national assembly is de- 
rived rather from those who elect, than from him who 
convokes it." 

Lord Stewart withdrew from the conference. The 
negotiations were abruptly broken off. The commis- 
sioners returned to Paris, where, to their surprise and 
chagrin, they found the capitulation concluded, the army 
withdrawn to the Loire, and the gates of the capital 
about to be thrown open to the allies. 

On the 8th of July, the deputies found the hall of ses- 
sion closed against them, and the order was proclaimed, 
that no one should enter. Lafayette demanded if it was 
the order of the prince regent of England ; and then, 
raising his voice to its utmost pitch, invited the members 
to meet at his house. The invitation was accepted ; but 
an adjournment to the house of the president was imme- 
diately voted. Two hundred members were present at 
this session. A spirited protest was adopted, and signed 
by every one present. But it was all in vain. Louis 
XVIII. re-entered Paris the same day, supported against 
his own people, by a million of foreign bayonets ; and 
the tri-colored standard of liberty everywhere gave place 
to the white flag of the Bourbons. 

Four years of retirement at Lagrange succeeded the 
stormy period of the second restoration, after which La- 
fayette was called again to serve as a deputy for La 
Sarthe and Meaux. Here, as he had always done, he 



A CHARGE OP TREASON. 357 

contended manfully for the rights of the people, resist- 
ing, step by step, the insidious encroachments of the 
crown. His boldness and freedom of speech became 
more and more offensive, as the government advanced 
tow^ard those despotic measures w^hich ultimately caused 
its overthrow. Many attempts were made to displace 
him from his seat. At length, in 1823, he was publicly 
charged with treason by the king's attorney. His col- 
leagues, who were implicated with him, demanded a 
ti'ial. It was on this occasion that Lafitte applied to the 
attorney the merited epithet o^ purveyor to the guillotine. 
Lafayette, disdaining to deny the charge, mounted the 
tribune and said : — 

" In spite of my habitual indifference to party accusa- 
tions and animosities, I still think myself bound to add a 
few words to what had fallen from my honorable friend. 
During the whole course of a life entirely devoted to 
liberty, I have constantly been an object of attack to the 
enemies of that cause, under whatever form, despotic, 
aristocratic, or anarchic, they have endeavored to com- 
bat it. I do not complain, then, because I observe some 
affectation in the use of the word, proved, which the pro- 
cureur-general has employed against me ; but I join my 
honored friends in demanding a public inquiry, within 
the walls of this chamber, and in the face of the nation. 
Then, I and my adversaries, to whatever rank they be- 
long, may declare, without reserve, all that we have mu- 
tually had to reproach each other with, for the last thirty 
years." 

From this open challenge his accusers recoiled. The 
accusation was dropped ; but, by intrigue and bribery, 
the ministers succeeded in defeating his re-election, and 
he returned once more to Lagrange, with the hope that 
his domestic retirement would never again be disturbed 
by a call to the arena of political strife. 



]58 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE, 



CHAPTER XXV. 

LAST VISIT TO AMERICA, IN 1824. 

The patriarch of liberty was approaching the close of 
his career. He had almost reached his threescore years 
and ten. In a long life of uncommon activity, and w^orld- 
wide usefulness, he had almost filled up the measure of 
his glory and his duty. The two great fields of his labors, 
America and France — how different the result of their 
struggles ! The latter, after thirty years of conflict and 
suffering, of herculean effort and gigantic convulsion, 
was scarcely nearer to the goal than when she started in 
the race. The former, established, consolidated, had 
grown, in half a century, to the stature and strength of 
a giant ; and in her vigorous onward march, had calmly 
taken her place of lofty independence and growing pros- 
perity and power, among the nations. America had been 
his early love. To her he devoted the first efforts of his 
youth — for her he spilled the first drop of his blood. In 
all his toils and trials, in all his hopes and fears, in all his 
joys and sorrows, he had turned to her with the pride 
and exultation of a child, and with the consoling assu- 
rance that all his labors and sacrifices had not been in 
vain. He had long wished to revisit her shores, and to 
see, with his own eyes, the evidences of her growing 
wealth and power. And he now resolved to gratify that 
wish. 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 359 

His purpose becoming known on this side the Atlan- 
tic, the president of the United States addressed him a 
letter, inviting him, in the most cordial terms, to come, 
and placed a frigate at his disposal, at any time when 
he should be ready to embark. Respectfully declining 
the offer of a public vessel, he took passage in the Cad- 
mus, an American merchantman, accompanied only by 
his son, George Washington, and his secretary, Mr. Le- 
vasseur. He sailed from Havre on the 12th of July, 
182 4, and arrived at New York on the 15th of August. 

Once more on American soil. And what a change ! 
Forty years had elapsed since he was last here. A whole 
generation had passed away. The thirteen independent 
states had become twenty-four. Three millions of peo- 
ple had become twelve millions. And every element of 
power, and greatness, and happiness, had increased in 
the same proportion. It was more like a magnificent 
vision than a living reality. 

To describe the brilliant parades, the triumphal pro- 
cessions, the costly fetes, the balls, the parties, which 
made his long and rapid journey an uninterrupted gala 
day of excitement and display, would be to repeat a 
thousand times, with variations, the same gorgeous and 
imposing scene. To recite all the fine speeches, or even 
to relate all the interesting incidents of his triumphant 
tour, would require a volume. A few of the most prom- 
inent, with a small selection from the incidents by the 
way, must suffice for the present pui'pose. 

He called on Joseph Bonaparte, at his beautiful resi- 
dence in Bordentown, New Jersey, It was a deeply in- 
teresting and affecting interview. The ex-king had always 
entertained the highest respect for the character of Lafay- 
ette, and greatly valued his friendship. Lafayette recip- 
rocated these sentiments, with a just appreciation of the 
goodness of Joseph's heart, and the liberality of his opin- 



360 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

ions. The scenes through which they had passed, the 
part which each had borne in those scenes, and the mighty 
changes which successive revolutions had wrought in 
their native land, conspired to give intensity to the emo- 
tions awakened by such a meeting on a foreign shore. 
To indulge them the more freely, Bonaparte and Lafay- 
ette withdrew to the library, where they remained alone 
more than an hour. After dinner, the grounds about the 
mansion were found to be filled with inhabitants from the 
country around, old and young, anxiously waiting to greet 
the " nation's guest." The ex-king immediately caused 
the doors to be thrown open for their reception. When 
they had retired, Lafayette apologized for having been 
the unconscious cause of such an intrusion upon the 
privacy of the house. But his host interrupted him, 
with the assurance that he was most happy to have his 
neighbors associated with him, in giving welcome to his 
friend and theirs, adding that he was quite accustomed 
to such gatherings of the people, as he always joined 
them on the 4th of July, in celebrating the anniversary 
of American independence. 

He visited the grave of Washington. " The tomb of 
the citizen-hero," says Levasseur, "is scarcely perceived 
amid the sombre cypresses by which it is surrounded. 
A vault, slightly elevated, and sodded over — a wooden 
door without inscription, a few garlands, some green and 
some withered, indicate the place where rest in peace the 
puissant arms that broke the chains of his country. As 
we approached, the door was opened. Lafayette de- 
scended alone into the vault, and a few minutes after re- 
appeared, his eyes overflowing with tears. He took his 
son and me by the hand, and led us into the tomb. We 
knelt reverently by the coflin, saluted it with our lips, 
and retired, all bathed in tears." 

He celebrated at Yorktown, the anniversary of the 




I 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 361 

surrender of Comwallis, occupying, while there, the 
same house that had foniied the headquarters of that 
general, during the siege in 1781. It was much dilapi- 
dated, and, with the buildings around, presented the ap- 
pearance of a sacked village and a deserted camp. 
Yorktown had never recovered from the disasters of the 
siege and the storm. The inhabitants were few. The 
ruined houses, blackened by fire, and pierced by balls, 
had not been repaired. The ground was still covered, 
in many places, with fragments of arms, broken shells, 
overturned gun-camages, and other implements of war, 
some of which lay all exposed upon the naked rocks 
while some were half-buried in the sand. Tents grouped 
or scattered, according to the nature of the ground, and 
platoons of soldiers placed at various points, gave it all 
the appearance of a camp hastily formed near a village 
taken and occupied after an obstinate battle. To make 
the illusion more complete, camp-beds were prepared, 
and officers, civil as well as military, threw themselves at 
random on mattresses or straw, in the half-open and un- 
furnished apartments. 

Aroused at daybreak by the roar of cannon, Lafayette 
with his escort, proceeded to Washington's marquee, 
which was erected on the plain, just out of the village, 
where he received the officers of the neighboring militia. 
This presentation, in the midst, as it were, of revolution- 
ary scenes, was intensely exciting. Two of the old sol- 
diers, who had never fainted in battle, nor shrunk from 
the face of an enemy, fainted away, under the power of 
their emotions, in shaking hands with Lafayette. 

About noon, a grand military escort was formed, to 
conduct the general to the site of the redoubt which he 
had so gallantly carried on the seventeenth day of the 
siege. Here a triumphal arch had been erected, under 
which he was received, and eloquently addressed by 
31 



362 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE* 

General Taylor, who, in concluding his speech, grace- 
fully crowned Lafayette with a civic wreath. With 
characteristic modesty and tact, the general took the 
wreath, and turning to Colonel Fish, of New York, who 
bore a heroic part in storming the redoubt, he said — 
" Take it ; this wreath belongs to you also. Preserve it as 
a deposite which we must account for to our comrades." 

The day passed in festivities, concluded by a grand 
military ball in the evening. The enthusiasm of the 
company was greatly increased by a discovery which 
some of the servants had made during the day. In an 
obscure corner of the cellar, a large box of candles had 
been found, which, by the marks upon the lid, were 
known to be a part of Lord Cornwallis's military stores, 
and which, singularly enough, had remained unmolested 
for forty-three years. They were brought out, and 
lighted for the evening's entertainment. The idea of 
dancing by the light of British candles — the last rem- 
nants of the stores furnished for the last act in the revo- 
lutionary drama — on the site of the last battle, and in 
the presence of the general who acted a most conspicu- 
ous part in it — the only surviving major-general of the 
revolution — was so exciting to the old soldiers, that, not- 
withstanding their great age, and the fatigues of the day, 
many of them refused to retire till the candles were en- 
tirely consumed. 

On his way to Yorktown, Lafayette had passed through 
Washington, and been cordially received by President 
Monroe, at the " white house." On his return northward, 
he passed a few days more at the capital. Congress was 
just assembling. It was the second session of the 
eighteenth congress. Lafayette and his companions 
were introduced to both houses with the highest honors. 
The speech of Mr. Clay, then speaker of the house of 
representatives, and the reply of Lafayette, are admira- 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 363 

ble specimens of impassioned eloquence. But, albeit 
republics are proverbially ungrateful, congress was not 
satisfied witli mere words. A bill was introduced and 
immediately j)assed, appropriating the sum of two hun- 
dred thousand dollars, together with twenty-four tliou- 
sand acres of land, to be selected from the most fertile 
section of the public domain, as a slight testimony of tlie 
sense which the American people entertained of the 
services and saciifices of Lafayette, in the cause of Amer- 
ican independence. 

Lafayette, who was at Annapolis when this bill was 
brought forward, was overcome with embarrassment at 
what he was pleased to regard as the munificence of Con- 
gress. And when a few of the members, who, from 
constitutional scruples, .had felt obliged to vote against 
the appropriation, waited upon him to explain their mo- 
tives, he replied, taking one of them cordially by the 
hand — "I fully appreciate your views. I assure you, 
if I had been a member I should have voted with you, 
not only because I partake of the sentiments which de- 
termined your votes, but also because I think that the 
American nation has done too much for me." 

The presidential campaign of 1824 was an unusually 
exciting one. Four candidates were in the field — 
Adams, Jackson, Clay, and Crawford, Parties were 
arrayed in bitter strife for the mastery. Short-sighted 
politicians of the old world predicted a convulsion that 
would be fatal to the permanence of our constitution. 
To Lafayette it was a season of peculiar interest. He 
saw the harmonious workings of the well-adjusted sys- 
tem. He rejoiced in the spirit and intelligence of people 
who always held their personal and party preferences 
subordinate to the constitution, and bowed, without a 
murmur, to the will of the majority. To his compan- 
ions, it was both amusing and instructive to see how all 



364 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

party differences were laid aside, and how haimoniously 
and kindly the most active and bitter partisans of yester- 
day, could meet to-day, on_ common ground, and vie 
with each other in doing honor to the nation's guest. 

At Camden, South Carolina, Lafayette assisted in lay- 
insf the corner-stone of a monument about to be erected 
in honor of Baron de Kalb, who, like himself, came from 
Europe to offer his services to the American states, and 
who, after faithful and valuable services, during which 
he was eleven times wounded, fell in battle on the plains 
of Camden. At Savannah, he performed the same sol- 
emn service, to the memory of Greene and Pulaski. 

At Charleston, the festivities of reception were ren- 
dered doubly interesting and grateful, by the presence 
of Colonel Francis K. Huger, the same who, thirty years 
before, had risked his life, and suffered a long imprison- 
ment, in the effort to aid the escape of Lafayette from 
the castle of Olmutz. The citizens of Charleston well 
understood the generous gratitude of their guest, and 
paid a delicate and deserved compliment to the goodness 
of his heart, when they conceived the idea of blending 
the honors conferred upon him with public demonstra- 
tions of gi-atitude and respect to his heroic deliverer. 
Everywhere the name of Huger was inscribed by the 
side of that of Lafayette. They sat side by side in the 
triumphal car, and at the festive board, and shared the 
honors and felicitations of the people. On the day of 
his departure, the city presented to Lafayette a beautiful 
and highly-finished miniature of his friend, richly set in a 
frame of solid gold. 

At Augusta, at Milledgeville, at Mobile, at New Or- 
leans, at Natchez, at St. Louis, and a hundred other 
places, there was a brilliant succession of fetes and tri- 
umphs, each vainly vying with the rest to invent some 
new mode of saying, " Welcome, Lafayette," or some 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 365 

new expression of gratitude and respect. At Kaskaskia, 
where an unexpected pause was made, and where con- 
sequently no formal 2^re2:)arations had been made for his 
reception, the general met with one of the most affecting- 
incidents of his tour. One of his companions, drawn by 
curiosity to an Indian encampment, a short distance from 
the town, found there a veiy pretty, intelligent, well- 
educated Indian woman, who spoke French fluently and 
with grace, and who expressed a great desire to see La- 
fayette. " I always carry with me," said she, " a relic 
that is very dear to me. I would show it to him. It 
would prove to him that his name is not less venerated 
among our tiibes, than among the white Americans, for 
whom he fought." This relic was a letter, written by 
Lafayette in 1778, to her father, Panisciowa, a chief of 
one of the Six Nations, thanking him for the courage and 
fidelity with which he had served the American cause. 

Mary was the only child of the brave old chief. On 
the death of her mother, he confided her to the care of 
the American agent, by whom she was treated as a 
daughter, receiving the same care and instruction as his 
own child. She became a Chiistian. Five years after, 
an Indian wanior came to her, as she was walking in the 
forest, and said that her father was dying, and wished to 
see her. Hastening off, without taking leave of her 
friends, and travelling all night, they reached at dawn of 
day, a small bark hut in the middle of a narrow valley. 
Here her aged father lay on his bed of skins, calmly ex- 
pecting death. As soon as he saw his child, he drew 
from his pouch a paper, wrapped carefully in a dry skin, 
and gave it to her, with a charge to preserve it as a most 
precious gift. " It is a powerful charm," said he, " to 
interest the pale faces in your favor. I received it from 
a great French warrior, whom the English dreaded as 
much as the Americans loved him, and with whom I 
31* 



366 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

fought in my youth." The next day Panisciowa died. 
Mary returned to her white friends, but soon after mar- 
ried the young warrior who had been her father's last 
friend and companion. Her meeting with Lafayette, her 
touching story, and the simple veneration with which her 
" relic" had been preserved nearly half a century, made 
a deep impression on the general's mind. 

At Nashville, forty officers and soldiers of the revolu- 
tion had assembled from different parts of the state, to 
bear a part in the triumph accorded to their old general. 
One of them, a very aged man, but full of life and ac- 
tivity, had travelled more than one hundred and fifty 
m,iles, " to see the young general." Seizing him warmly 
by the hand, he exclaimed — "I have had two happy 
days in my life — one when I landed with you on the 
American coast, in 1777, and this, when I see your face 
again. I have lived long enough." The old man's name 
was Haguy. He was a German. He had come to Amer- 
ica in the same vessel with Lafayette, and had served un- 
der his orders during the whole war. 

That variety might not be wanting to spice the other- 
wise tedious navigation of the west, the steamer that was 
to convey them to Louisville struck a snag in the Ohio. 
It was midnight, " dark as that dreadful night in Egypt." 
Alarm, dismay, terror, confusion — what words can ade- 
quately describe the scene ! The boat was a total wreck. 
The passengers were all in imminent peril of their lives. 
But the first thought of every one was for Lafayette. 
The boat was immediately got out, and with great diffi- 
culty, and much against his own will, he was placed in 
it, and set on shore, with a few friends. By the unwea- 
ried exertions of the crew and the passengers, all were 
safely landed. George Lafayette was one of the last 
that left the boat, having, by his coolness and tact, ren- 
dered such valuable service, that the captain remarked 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 367 

— " He must often have been sliijnvrecked, for he has 
behaved to-night as if he was accustomed to such adven- 
tures." On shore, with no shelter but the trees on the 
bank, they were visited with a heavy shower of rain. 
Some were half naked, all were more or less en disha- 
bille. But, gathering around their fires, which were 
plentifully supplied with brushwood, they turned their 
misfortunes into mirth, laughed at each other's grotesque 
appearance and costume, and by story, song, and joke, 
wliiled away the hours till morning. About nine o'clock, 
the boat from Louisville appeared, bound down the river. 
One of the proprietors being present, he generously took 
in the whole party, and gave orders to return to Louis- 
ville, at once. 

At Buffalo, Lafayette received a visit from Red Jacket, 
an old chief of the Senecas. They had met in 1784, in 
the gi'eat council at Fort Schuyler. Red Jacket spoke 
of that meeting, and of its results, with feeling. *' And 
where," demanded Lafayette, " is the young Avarrior who 
so eloquently opposed the burying of the tomahawk, on 
that occasion?" — "He is before you," replied the son 
of the forest. " Time has much changed us," said the 
general; "we were then young and active." — "Ah!" 
exclaimed the Indian, " time has made less change on 
you than on me — look !" and uncovering his head he 
showed that it was entirely bald. The general, who wore 
a wig, to cover the ravages of time, was not a little 
amused ; but fearing that Red Jacket might mistake it 
for a scalp, and undertake to supply his own loss at the 
expense of some unfortunate neighbor, he did not think 
it best to undeceive him. 

While receiving the farewells of the multitude at CJti- 
ca, the boat having already started, a tall, stout man, 
whose copper complexion, half-naked body, and gro- 
tesque ornaments, left no doubt of his origin, rushed 



368 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

through the crowd, and ran along the bank, making signs 
for the boat to stop. , The captain not deeming this 
advisable, the swift -/ooted hunter continued the chase, 
passed the boat, and waited her coming on the bridge 
below. Thence, leaping upon the deck, he exclaimed, 
" Kayoula ! where is Kayoula V Lafayette was pointed 
out to him. " I am the son of Wekchekaeta," said he, 
stretching out his hand — " of him who loved you so 
well that he followed you to your own country, after the 
great war. My father talked much of you, and I am 
happy to see you." After a little more talk, and a pres- 
ent from the great Kayoula, the young brave took his 
leave, springing from the boat to the bank, a distance of 
ten feet, with the lightness of a deer. 

On the 15th of June, two days before the anniversary 
of the battle of Bunker hill, Lafayette reached Boston. 
He had travelled, in less than four months, more than five 
thousand miles ; having traversed a part of the gulf of 
Mexico on the south, and one of the great chain of lakes 
on the north ; having ascended rapid rivers to the verge 
of civilization, and received the homage of a score of 
independent republics, and of millions of happy, grateful 
freemen. 

On the 17th, the corner-stone of the Bunker-hill mon- 
ument was laid, with imposing ceremonies. Fifty years 
had elapsed since the first battle of the Revolution. 
Some of the old officers, and many of the old soldiers, 
who participated in the glory of that day, were present 
at the solemnity. They came up from every part of the 
wide Union — from every family of the sisterhood of 
states. Scarred with wounds, bent with years, and lean- 
ing upon their staves, with their children and their chil- 
dren's children, by hundreds and by thousands, they 
came, to celebrate the first great achievement of Ameri- 
can arms, and lay the foundation of a monument which 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 369 

should perpetuate its memory, and illustrate its histoiy, 
to after-generations. 

The magnitude and perfection of the arrangements, 
the vast numbers assembled, the presence of Lafayette 
and his brother veterans, the eloquence of Webster, and 
the unparalleled sublimity of the occasion, conspired to 
make this the grandest and most imposing festival of the 
age. After having, by a few master-touches, sketched 
in outline the history of the half century then elapsed, 
recalled the great event w^hich that day commemorated, 
declared the purpose of the monument then to be reared, 
welcomed and cons^ratulated the surviving: heroes of the 
Revolution, and addressed an eloquent eulogy to the 
manes of the honored dead, the orator turned to Lafay- 
ette. 

"Sir," said he, "we are assembled to commemorate 
the establishment of the great public principles of lib- 
erty, and to do honor to the distinguished dead. The 
occasion is too severe for eulogy to the living ; but your 
interesting relation to this country, the peculiar circum- 
stances which suiTound you and suiTOund us, call on me 
to express the happiness which we derive from your 
presence and aid in this solemn commemoration. 

" Fortunate, fortunate man ! with what measure of 
devotion will you not thank God, for the circumstances 
of your extraordinary life ! You are connected with 
both hemispheres, and with two generations. Heaven 
saw fit to ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should 
be conducted, through you, from the new world to the 
old ; and we, who are now here to perform this duty of 
patriotism, have all of us long ago received it in charge 
from our fathers, to cherish your name and your virtues. 
You now behold the field, the renown of which reached 
you in the heart of France, and caused a thrill in your 
ardent bosom. You see the lines of the little redoubt, 



370 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

thrown up by the incredible diligence of Prescott, de- 
fended, to the last extremity, by his lion-hearted valor, 
and within which the corner-stone of our monument has 
now taken its position. You see where Warren fell, 
and where Parker, Gardner, M'Cleary, Moore, and other 
early patriots, who fell with him. Those who survived 
that day, and whose lives have been prolonged to the 
present hour, are now around you. Some of them you 
have known in the trying scenes of the war. Behold ! 
they now stretch forth their feeble arms to embrace you. 
Behold ! they raise their trembling voices to invoke the 
blessing of God on you and yours for ever ! 

*' Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of 
this edifice. You have heard us rehearse, with our fee- 
ble commendation, the names of departed patriots. Sir, 
monuments and eulogy belong to the dead. We give 
them, this day, to Warren and his associates. On other 
occasions, they have been given to your more immedi- 
ate companions-in-arms — to Washington, to Greene, to 
Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. Sir, we have become 
reluctant to grant these, our highest and last honors, fur- 
ther. We would gladly hold them yet back from the 
little remnant of that immortal band. Serus in ccelum 
redeas. Illustrious as are your merits, yet far, oh ! very 
far distant, be the day when any inscription shall bear 
your name, or any tongue pronounce its eulogy !" 

Under an immense pavilion, covering the summit of 
the hill, more than four thousand guests sat down to an 
ample and substantial feast, which was enlivened by pa- 
triotic songs, appropriate toasts, and the most spirit-stir- 
ring strains of our national martial airs. After the reg- 
ular toasts, the president proposed, " Health and long 
life to General Lafayette;" to which, after a very brief 
acknowledgment, in behalf of himself and his fellow- 
veterans, he responded, " Bunker hill, and the holy re- 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 371 

sistance to oppression, which has already enfranchised 
the American hemisphere — the next jubilee toast shall 
be, To enfranchised Euroj^e /" 

Having, by forced and rapid journeys, visited the prin- 
cipal places in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont — 
having traversed the fields of Saratoga, Germantown, 
BaiTen hill, and Brandy wine — having made a parting 
call upon the venerable ex-presidents Adams, Jefferson, 
Madison, and Monroe, at their respective homes in Mas- 
sachusetts and Virginia, and having received, at Wash- 
ington, from the lips of the president, John Quincy Ad- 
ams, a national farewell and benediction, to which the 
responsive Amen went up from twelve millions of grate- 
ful hearts, from the hills and streams of New England, 
from the broad prairies and ocean lakes of the west, from 
the rich savannahs of the south, from the fertile plains 
and teeming valleys of the central states — ay, and even 
from the scattered forest-homes of the red man, the an- 
cient lord of all this wide domain — he embarked, on the 
8th of September,^ on board the Frigate Brandywine, 
sailed down the Potomac, and, from the capes of Vir- 
ginia, bade a final adieu to the shores of America.^ 

" From the moment of your departure," said Mr. Ad- 
ams, " the prayers of millions will ascend to heaven, that 
your passage may be prosperous, and your return to the 
bosom of your family as propitious to your happiness, 
as your visit to this scene of your youthful glory has. 
been to that of the American people." And so it was. 
The prayers and blessings of a mighty nation followed 
him across the Atlantic, followed him to his home, fol- 
lowed him to his gi'ave ; and, while our free institutions 
shall endure, generation after generation, the ever-grow- 
ing millions of our boundless inheritance, shall rise uj) 
and call him blessed. 



^ ^y^' V'bfLiuya AtC-tiAw WW Wt.v.e* ^^^ 



372 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE REVOLUTION OF 1830. 

Step by step, the tyranny of the old regime was re- 
gaining its hold upon France. The Bourbons, forgetting 
the lessons of the past, and growing arrogant in power, 
began to draw closer the reins of government, to assume 
the ancient prerogatives of the crown, and to encroach 
upon the constitutional rights of the people. Louis 
XVIII. commenced this work of usurpation, which 
Charles X. followed up with bolder strides. His instru- 
ments, throughout France, even to the lower orders of 
the police, were undergoing a gradual training in the 
old order of things, and fast learning the lessons of ab- 
ject servility to the crown, and jealousy of every other 
kind of greatness. When Lafayette landed at HaA'^re, on 
the 2d of October, 1826, he was greeted with a cordial 
welcome, and with demonstrations of affection, confi- 
dence, and respect, which gave serious alarm to those 
who believed that all such personal homage should be 
reserved for royalty. At Rouen, the people were dis- 
posed to show him the same respect. They assembled 
in large numbers before the house of an old friend, on 
whom he had called, and saluted him with the usual 
shouts and vivats, accompanied with appropriate strains 
of music, from a martial band. Lafayette came out upon 
a balcony, and commenced addressing the people, when 
a detachment of royal guards, accompanied by some of 



% 

THE REVOLUTION OF 1830. 373 

the armed police, fired upon the citizens, commanding 
them to disperse. Several persons were w^ounded. The 
police, with drawn swords, attended Lafayette to the 
hotel, in order lo prevent any farther demonstrations of 
popular feeling. They were met, however, by a party 
of determined young men, who were fully prepared to 
contest with them the liberty of speech, guarantied to 
them by the constitution. The guards were driven back. 
The people, with an enthusiasm greatly inflamed by this 
ill-timed interference, rushed together in larger numbers, 
and expressed in louder and more emphatic terms their 
gratitude and attachment to the champioa oi- liberty. 
On his departure, the following morning, a" numerous 
and respectable body of citizens, marshalled in due or- 
der, assembled, without molestation from the police, and 
escorted him, with civic honors, along the first stage of 
his journey. 

Soon after his return, though he was now seventy 
years of age, and might well have claimed repose from 
all public affairs, he was elected to the chamber of dep- 
uties. Men of his stamp were needed to resist the rapid 
encroachments of despotic power. He resumed the 
task, with all the ardor and fearlessness of youth. He 
insisted upon extensive reforms, declaring that " while 
nations were advancing governments were retrograding," 
and contending that government, which was duly the 
creature and servant of the nation, must be compelled to 
keep pace with it, in every liberal improvement. He 
attacked, with all his eloquence and zeal, the system of 
ministerial patronage, and earnestly pleaded for a reform 
and extension of trial by jury, and the abolition of cap- 
ital punishment, and of punishment by the branding- 
iron, both of which he looked upon as belonging to the 
age of barbarism. He proposed and advocated the di- 
vorcing of religion from its unnatural alliance with the 
32 



374 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. ^ 

State, an enlarged and liberal system of national educa- 
tion, a rigid economy in the administration of public 
aflfairs, the re-organization of the National Guards, the 
abolition of the slave-trade, and the utmost extension of 
the right of suffrage. His speeches on these and kin- 
dred topics, during the sessions of 1828 and 1829, were 
marked by the same plain, direct, practical common 
sense, and logical force, which distinguished his earlier 
efforts in the same cause, and which, together with his 
fearlessness and perseverance, made his the most formi- 
dable name in the ranks of the opposition. 

During the summer of 1829, Lafayette made a visit to 
his relatives in the departments of Auvergne and Isere. 
His journey was everywhere interiTipted by demonstra- 
tions of popular regard. From city, town, and village, 
the people came out to welcome and to honor him. 
From Clermont to Chavagniac, from Chavagniac to Vi- 
zille, and from Vizille to Lyons, his journey was little 
less than a civic triumph. At Grenoble a silver crown, 
encircled with a fillet of oak-leaves, was presented to 
him by one of the most aged and venerable of the citi- 
zens. In the evening the whole town was illuminated. 
True to their royal master, on whom their living de- 
pended, some of the civil authorities would have re- 
pressed the enthusiasm of the people, and forbidden 
these public displays of regard for a private citizen. 
But the sentiment of the people was too deep and too 
strong to be restrained. It was prudently suffered to 
speak and act itself out, without molestation. At Vi- 
zille, the mayor took the lead in the arrangements made 
for his reception. The display was beautiful and bril- 
liant in the extreme. Every house and public building 
in the city was illuminated, while bonfires were lighted 
on all the Alpine peaks around, presenting an immense 
amphitheatre, the mountain torches glaring in the deep 



THE REVOLUTION OP 1830. 375 

dome above, and the illuminated streets twinkling as 
footlights below. The mayor was punished for his te- 
merity in taking part in these festivities, being immedi- 
ately removed from office, by order of the government. 
But so perfect was the unanimity of sentiment among 
the citizens, that no one could be induced to accept the 
vacant magistracy. At Vienne, the whole population 
turned out to greet their venerated guest. Fireworks, 
prepared for the occasion, but prohibited by the authori- 
ties, were taken across the Rhine, and displayed from 
the opposite bank. 

Excited to seven-fold zeal by the paltry jealousy of the 
government, the citizens of Lyons prepared to receive 
the general in a style of unparalleled magnificence. 
Eighty thousand persons poured out from the gates on 
his approach, to give him welcome ; while the remain- 
ing population took possession of the streets, windows, 
balconies, and housetops, and gi'eeted him with inces- 
sant acclamations, as he passed along. Forty-four years 
before, at the commencement of the first revolution, and 
in the morning of his proud career, he had received, in 
passing, the honors of the city. A few years after, 
on relinquishing the command of the National Guard, 
he was presented with an emblematic memorial of its 
regard, as beautiful in its classic device as it was flatter- 
ing and appropriate. It was in the form of a Roman 
banner. The shield, which was encircled with a crown 
of oak -leaves, and suiTnounted by the Gallic cock, rep- 
resented Curtius plunging into the flaming gulf, for the 
preservation of his country ; while the motto, C. L. O. C. 
{Gives Lugdunenses optimo civi*), conveyed the highest 
honor which it was in the power of words to express. 

The authorities of the city, to save their offices, took 
no part in these honors. They even interposed some 

* Tlic citizens of Lyons to tlie best citizen. 



376 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

slight obstacles to the enthusiasm of the people. But it 
continued during three entire days to display itself in 
every variety of military parade, civic procession, water 
excursion, evening party, and masonic festival, and closed 
with a magnificent banquet of five hundred covers, where 
the homage of the city to its guest was again embodied 
in the following toast : " Other warriors have gained bat- 
tles ; others have made eloquent orations ; but none 
have equalled him in the civic virtues." 

The report of these proceedings greatly exasperated 
the court, and an order was actually prepared, and on 
the point of being despatched by telegraph, for the ar- 
rest of Lafayette. It was prudently reconsidered, how- 
ever, and the general departed from Lyons, attended by 
an immense cavalcade of citizens, and an escort of cav- 
alry, who, notwithstanding the rain, which fell in torrents, 
accompanied him six miles from the city. Declining nu- 
merous pressing solicitations from other towns and cities 
on his way, he hastened home, to prepare for a new 
struggle with despotism. Another revolution had al- 
ready commenced. 

The year 1830 opened with dark signs of a coming 
storm. Polignac was placed at the head of a ministry 
pledged to the crown and distrusted by the people. The 
king, in his speech at the opening of the assembly, de- 
nounced the whole country as a focus of revolt and sedi- 
tion, and boldly defied any interference with his meas- 
ures. The deputies, headed by Lafayette, replied with 
a tone as bold and resolute as the king's. The king im- 
mediately dissolved the chambers, and ordered a new 
election, at the same time using means to overawe and 
control the suifrages of the nation. In this he was un- 
successful. The greater part of the liberal deputies 
were re-elected. The new assembly was even more pop- 
ular than the last. To neutralize, if possible, this un- 



THE REVOLUTION OP 1830. 377 

expected defeat, and awe the people by a show of des- 
perate resolution, the king, overstepping all the pledges 
of the constitution, put forth a series of ordinances wor- 
thy of the despotic genius of Napoleon. The first pro- 
nounced the new chamber dissolved before it assembled. 
The second annulled the electoral laws then in force, 
reduced the number of deputies nearly one half, and 
matenally changed the conditions of suffrage and repre- 
sentation. The last abrogated the laws which guarded 
the liberty of the press. These ordinances appeared in 
the Moniteur of the 26th of July. 

** Patriots can not recall, without terror," says SaiTan, 
" the first eft'ect produced by these ordinances. It was 
a sullen stupor of almost incredulity. The Moniteur 
had been circulated several hours. The citizens had 
read and re-read, for the twentieth time, the insolent 
manifesto, and could not yet persuade themselves of the 
actual existence of such insane audacity." 

The day passed off* without disturbance, though not 
without the frequent interchange of looks and words of 
fearful import. In the evening, meetings were held in 
various places, and men who had all the day been medi- 
tating revolt, came together for conference and action. 
The conductors of the press were foremost in preparing 
for resistance. They drew up, signed, and published, a 
bold and vigorous protest against the ordinances, as a 
direct invasion of their constitutional rights, as well as a 
violation of the dearest rights of the people. It was 
widely disseminated, and operated with electric energy 
throughout the city. Public opinion was instantly 
aroused to action. Undisguised indignation succeeded 
to sullen surprise. The overcharged magazine of pop- 
ular discontent, burst into awful explosion, and Paris, 
but now apparently so quiet, was all in arms — a camp 
on the eve of battle. 
32* 



378 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Mechanics, laborers, students of the Polytechnic 
school, and of the schools of law and medicine, and cit- 
izens of every name and grade, equipped themselves for 
the conflict, and assembled in vast numbers at the cry, 
resounding in all the streets, " Vive la Charte /" or, 
" Vive la Liberie /" The alarm reached the palace, 
where the foolish king and his J)esotted ministers flattered 
themselves that they were fully prepared for any emer- 
gency. The royal command was given, and the heavy 
battalions marched out in complete array, to meet and 
subdue their masters, the sovereign people. Their mas- 
ters were ready to receive them. A few hours had suf- 
ficed for preparation. In every quarter, the streets were 
barricaded. Carts, carriages, paving-stones, and every 
kind of rubbish, were converted into walls and parapets, 
behind which determined bands of volunteer citizens 
awaited the onset. Windows, balconies, house-tops, 
became so many garrisons of defence, from which the 
maddened populace poured forth defiance and death 
upon their assailants. Paris was a Babel of arms. Lib- 
erty and despotism, the people and the crown, were 
once more met in deadly strife for the mastery. It was 
an issue of blood only. The time for concession and 
conciliation was past. Victory or submission were the 
only alternatives. 

Lafayette was at Lagrange. The Moniteur, with a 
copy of the decrees, reached him on the morning of the 
27th. Comprehending, at a glance, their inevitable ef- 
fect, he immediately set off, post-haste, for Paris, where 
he was received with acclamations of joy and confidence. 
The war had already commenced. It was then raging 
in many of the streets. It wanted a leader, and all eyes 
were turned to Lafayette. He was called by acclama- 
tion, to command the National Guard. 

Such of the deputies as were then in Paris, assembled 



THE REVOLUTION OP 1830. 379 

at a private house for a consultation. Lafayette and La- 
fitte were earliest on the srround. A discussion ensued. 
Many hesitated and trembled. Some openly advocated 
submission. Lafayette, deeming that impossible, de- 
clared that a revolution, with just and sufficient cause, 
had already begun, and proposed the immediate appoint- 
ment of a provisional government. At this moment, it 
was announced that the people, after a sanguinary en- 
gagement, were masters of the Hotel de Ville. A loud 
call was made for instant action. Some of the timid 
gave way. Others still hesitated, and recommended an 
humble petition to the throne. Lafayette, indignant at 
these delays, while the blood of the people was flowing 
in all the streets, rose and declared that, as his name was 
already, by the confidence of his fellow-citizens, placed 
at the head of the insurrection, he should wait no lonsrer. 
He should establish his headquarters in Paris the next 
day. He was true to his word. The whole night he 
passed in inspecting the barricades, and making prepa- 
ration for the arduous work of the morrow. The battle 
was renewed at dawn. The people, under their old com- 
mander, and the tri-colored flag of liberty, carried every- 
thing before them, till the royal troops, giving way on 
all sides, were driven back upon the Louvre and the 
Tuileries. Encouraged by these successes, the deputies 
reassembled on the 29th, organized a provisional gov- 
ernment, and formally invested Lafayette with the pow- 
ers of a military dictatorship. 

Meanwhile, the Louvre and the Tuileries had surren- 
dered to the invincible courage of the people, and La- 
fayette, supreme ruler of France, commenced his trium- 
phant march to ihe Hotel de Ville, whence he issued the 
following proclamation : — 

" My dear fellow-citizens and brave comrades : The 
confidence of the people of Paris once more calls me to 



380 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

command the popular force. T have accepted, with de- 
votion and joy, the powers that have been confided to 
me ; and, as in 1789, I feel myself strong in the appro- 
bation of my honorable colleagues, this day assembled 
in Paris. I shall make no profession of my faith. My 
sentiments are well known. The conduct of the Parisian 
population, in these last days of trial, has made me more 
than ever proud of being their leader. Liberty shall tri- 
umph, or we will perish together. " Lafayette." 

The revolution was now accomplished. The din of 
battle ceased. The glorious three days of July were 
ended. Charles X., seeing the folly and hopelessness of 
further attempts at coercion, thought yet to save his 
crown, by retracing his steps, and bowing to the popular 
will. To tills end, he sent a deputation to the Hotel de 
Ville, to treat with the new representatives of the peo- 
ple, at the same time announcing the revocation of the 
obnoxious decrees, and the nomination of a new and lib- 
eral ministry. To this Lafayette replied, " It is too late 
■ — all conciliation is impossible — the royal family has 
ceased to reign." 

Thus peremptorily rejected at the Hotel de Ville, the 
crest-fallen monarch applied to the deputies, requesting 
their mediation to bring back the people to their old al- 
legiance. " It is too late," replied Lafitte. " War has 
decided ; Charles X. is no longer king of France." 

Thus ended the dynasty of the elder branch of the 
Bourbons. The deposed king, after another abortive 
attempt to regain his crown by force, sent in a formal 
abdication, and passed unmolested to England, mutter- 
ing, as he went, *' That old republican Lafayette has 
been the prime mover of all this mischief." 

Once more without a government, the question for the 
people was, what shall replace the fallen dynasty 1 It 
was a question of deep import, and real difficulty. Many 



THE REVOLUTION OP 1830. 381 

of the patriots of the old school, and with them the mass 
of the people, hoped and asked for a republic. They 
were tired of experiments with the throne. They wished 
to lay aside the crown and the sceptre altogether. They 
looked to Lafayette as their chief, and desired no other. 
The headquarters of this party were at the Hotel de 
Ville. 

On the other hand, a strong and respectable party, 
with Lafitte at its head, still clung to the monarchy. Its 
chiefs were members elect of the chamber of deputies, 
and, as such, were in constant session. Lafitte was an 
eminent banker, reputed immensely rich, but really so 
only as he wielded and controlled the public and pri- 
vate resources of France. He had large and intimate 
relations with the aristocracy. He was the banker and 
confidential agent of the duke of Orleans, the richest 
man in France, and the representative of the younger 
branch of the Bourbon family. He understood his char- 
acter. He had unlimited confidence in the liberality of 
his views ; and he immediately conceived the idea of re- 
constructing the "monarchy surrounded with republican 
institutions," with Louis Philippe at its head. How 
much of personal interest was mingled in his plans, it is 
impossible now to say. On his own responsibility, he 
sent for the duke to come to Paris. The duke hesita- 
ted, but came. A proclamation was immediately drawn 
up, proposing the duke of Orleans as lieutenant-general 
of the kingdom ; and the duke, after consulting Talley- 
rand, the grand-chamberlain of the ex-king, ventured to 
accept the nomination. 

This was the work of the deputies, aided by a few of 
the peers. Meanwhile, the people, who had accom- 
plished the revolution, and especially the citizen-army, 
loudly demanded a republic, with Lafayette for its pres- 
ident. Numerous and influential deputations waited 



382 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

upon him, and urged him to use the power already vest- 
ed in him, to crush the intrigues of the monarchists. 
Others, less republican in their views, when the procla- 
mation of the deputies appeared, begged him to take 
still higher ground, by mounting the throne himself. 
" If we are to have a king," said they, " why not have 
you V To which he laughingly replied, " No, no ; a 
crown would become me as a ring would become a cat." 
He received proposals, also, from another party, advoca- 
ting the claims of the young duke de Bordeaux to the 
vacant throne, and naming himself as regent ; but would 
not listen for a moment to any proposal which looked to 
his own aggrandizement. The sole purpose of his life 
was, to obtain liberty for France. 

It was the earnest and oft-repeated wish of Lafayette, 
that a provisional government, of the simplest form, 
should be instituted, until the nation, in its primary as- 
semblies, should have opportunity to designate its own 
form of government, and choose its own rulers ; but the 
deputies, the identical deputies who, but a few days be- 
fore, had been re-elected in spite of the known wishes 
and powerful intrigues of the dethroned king, and who, 
therefore, with great show of right, claimed to be the 
special and only representatives of the popular will, were 
alike averse to a provisional government, and to an ap- 
peal to the primary assemblies. To this body, Lafayette 
could not consistently oppose himself. From it he re- 
ceived the power with which he was then invested ; and 
to it he held himself amenable, so long as it did not con- 
travene the expressed will of the nation. The nation 
had had no opportunity to express its will. To Louis 
Philippe he had no personal objection ; he respected 
his character, and had confidence in his principles. He 
moreover regarded the lieutenant-generalship as only a 
temporary substitute for the office with which he was 



THE REVOLUTION OF 1830. 383 

himself invested, and vv^hich he was eager to lay down 
as soon as the liberties of the people, and public tran- 
quillity, were secured. When, therefore, a deputation 
from the chamber announced to him this new appoint- 
ment, he gave his assent without hesitation, declaring, 
at the same time, that, like his own authority, it must be 
regarded only as provisional, subject to the will of the 
nation, and that nothing was definitive but the victory 
and sovereignty of the people. 

The nomination was not acceptable to the people of 
Paris. Louis Philippe was a Bourbon ; the very name 
was hateful to them. So strong was this feeling, that 
when, on his arrival before the Hotel de Ville, his friends 
attempted to raise the usual vivats of welcome, they were 
instantly drowned by vociferations, a thousand times re- 
iterated, of ^^ Vive la liberte r"" — '■^ Vive Lafayette!^' 
and when, again, as the prince presented himself in the 
hall to the young soldiers of the polytechnic school, a 
few feeble voices cried, " Vive le due d* Orleans .'" it was 
answered by tremendous shouts of " Vive Lafayette /" 
repeated with all the vehemence of French enthusiasm. 
The same spirit was manifested in the streets and public 
squares of the city, where the populace tore down from 
the walls the proclamations announcing the appointment 
of a lieutenant-general, and severely chastised those who 
were employed in posting them. 

This was the trying moment for the patriotism of La- 
fayette. He sympathized with the people in many of 
their objections to the appointment ; but he recognised 
the authority of the body from which it emanated. It 
was the only real authority then existing in France. The 
question of submission, then, was a question between 
anarchy and order, which, to the mind of Lafayette, was 
no question at all. He felt that the destiny of France 
was in his hands — that all eyes awaited his movements. 



3S4 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

The result showed that he was still, as ever, true to him- 
self and to France. 

The declaration of the chamber was read, the assem- 
bled multitude remaining silent and unmoved ; but when, 
at the close of the reading, Lafayette came forward, gave 
his hand cordially to the prince, presented him with a 
tri-colored flag, and commended him to the people as 
their legitimate leader, their enthusiasm began to take a 
new direction. Cries of " Vive le due d' Orleans /" rose 
from among them on every side, though for a long time 
they were scarcely heard, amid the more numerous and 
heartfelt shouts of " Vive Lafayette /" It was a preg- 
nant crisis. In the face of the deputies and of the prince, 
dissatisfaction and opposition were expressed in the most 
violent terais. " Sir," said General Dubourg to the duke, 
in a loud, stern voice, that reached the ears of thousands, 
" you know our wants, and our rights ; if you forget 
them, we will remind you of them." — " Le Bourbon/ 
Le Bourhon .'" shouted the multitudes, in tones of bitter 
execration, ready, at a word, to take arms again, and 
shake off for ever this hateful yoke. 

By the all-powerful influence of Lafayette, the tumult 
was quelled, order and harmony restored, and the new 
authority quietly confirmed and established. Having 
obtained a promise from the chiefs of the popular party, 
that the tranquillity of the city should not be disturbed, 
he proceeded to the Palais Royal, the city residence of 
Louis Philippe, and demanded a frank expression of his 
views on some of the fundamental principles for which 
France had been so long contending. These were, the 
sovereignty of the people, the abolition of heredkary 
peerage, universal suffi-age, the re-establishment of the 
National Guard, and the abolition of government mo- 
nopolies. The answers of the prince to all these points 
were full, decided, and satisfactory. 



THE REVOLUTION OF 1830. 385 

" You know," said Lafayette, *' that I am a republi- 
can, and that I consider the constitution of the United 
States as the most perfect system that ever existed." 

*' I think so, too," said the duke ; " it is impossible to 
have lived t*vo years in America, w^ithout being of that 
opinion. But do you think, in the present situation of 
France, and in the present state of public opinion, that 
we can venture to adopt it here 1" 

"No," replied Lafayette, frankly; "what the French 
people want, at the present juncture, is a popular throne, 
surrounded by republican institutions." 

" That is just what I think," said the duke, at the same 
time going into a full explanation of his views, which 
were liberal and republican far beyond the expectations 
of the general. They satisfied him ; and the announce- 
ment of them, as the basis of the new government, paci- 
fied the people. The attention of the citizen-army was, 
for the moment, diverted to another quarter. 

Charles X. was still in France. With the court, and 
the royal army, he had retired upon Versailles and Ram- 
bouillet, and was preparing for farther resistance. The 
announcement of this fact roused to new phrensy the 
turbulent spirit of the metropolis. At a call from La- 
fayette for volunteers, twenty thousand men assembled 
in the Champs Elysees, where he had appointed to re- 
view them. It was a motley corps, made up of all the 
heterogeneous materials of a Paris population, in cos- 
tumes of every style and hue, from the broadcloth frock 
of the most approved pattern, to the faded calico round- 
about and the ragged blouse. Their arms were equally 
diverse and grotesque. There was nothing in the work- 
shops of France, that would^ cany powder and ball, 
which was not represented there. There was no uni- 
formity in anything, but in the spirit which animated the 
coi-ps. Flushed with recent victories, and confident of 

33 



386 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

success, tliey were impatient to be in the field. Though 
but a few miles, Lafayette had made arrangements for 
transporting the troops to the scene of action ; and here 
was the most amusing spectacle of all. It was a scene 
for Hogarth. Carriages, omnibuses, hackney-coaches, 
cabriolets, chairs, carts, wagons, and vehicles of every 
name and form, with equipages as various and unique, 
loaded within and without, with this gay, wild, grotesque 
multitude, rushing to battle, as to a fete, singing, laugh- 
ing, shouting, as they went. Never before was there 
such a mustering under the banner of Mars ; and the 
fiery god, as he came to marshal it, must have supposed 
it the host of Bacchus, bound for the conquest of the 
East. Like that host, it marched to certain and easy 
victory; for, when the royal army, like that of Syria, 
"heard the noise of chariots, and the noise of horses, 
even the noise of a great host, they arose, and fied for 
their life." Thus ended the military and regal career 
of Charles X. 

The revolution of July was felt throughout the world. 
In England, it produced an excitement which overthrew 
the tory ministry, and hastened the triumph of some im- 
portant measures of reform, which had long been under 
discussion. Throughout the United States, it was hailed 
with the highest enthusiasm, and responded to by ad- 
dresses and deputations from the principal cities to the 
National Guard, and to Lafayette. The same was done 
in Mexico, Bogota, Vera Cruz, Chili, Peru, and Bolivia. 
Even in far India, the echo of this great event was heard. 
" In Delhi, the holy city, the people and the authorities, 
Indian and English, celebrated it in a magnificent enter- 
tainment — the dwellers on the banks of the Ganges 
drinking to the men of the barricades, and shouting, 
* Lafayette, Jbr ever .'' " 



THE KEIGN OP LOUIS PHILIPPE. 387 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 

The expedition to Versailles diverted, but did not al- 
lay the excitement in Paris. Knowing that the dispersion 
of a vanquished army was an easier achievement than 
curbing the refractory spirit of a victorious mob, Lafay- 
ette had assigned the command of this expedition to Gen- 
eral Pajol, and remained himself at his post in the Hotel 
de Ville. 

The 3d of August was the day appointed by law for 
the meeting of the chambers. Hitherto, everything had 
been irregular and provisional. Now, there was a legit- 
imate government, chosen by the people, and duly organ- 
ized. But its leading members had already lost the con- 
fidence of the Parisian populace, and of the young sol- 
diers of the revolution. The session had scarcely com- 
menced, when a tumultuous crowd, mad with rage at the 
miserable shadow of a constitution which was proposed 
for acceptance, appeared at the door of the chamber, to 
overawe its deliberations, or dissolve it by force. It was 
a fearful scene, even to those who had just passed through 
the bloody conflicts of the last three days of July. The 
chamber was courageously resolved to maintain to the 
death its legal nght to deliberate. The mob was equally 
resolved that its deliberations should assume a more 
republican tone. The tumult was at its height, and an- 



388 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

gvj words were about to be exchanged for angrier blows, 
when Lafayette, enteiing by the great court on the oppo- 
site side of the hall, presented himself to the crowd of 
intruders. They were hushed to silence in a moment. 
" My friends," said he, " it was my duty to take measures 
for defending the independence of the chamber. I neg- 
lected to do so, and I acknowledge my error in that 
neglect. But I did not anticipate, after all that has 
passed in the revolution, the violence which has been 
manifested to-day. I have no force to oppose to you. 
But, if the liberty of the chamber is violated, the dis- 
grace will fall upon me, who am intrusted with the main- 
tenance of public order. - I leave my honor in your 
hands, and I count upon your friendship for me as a se- 
curity that you will depart peaceably." At these words, 
the storm subsided, as by magic, and, with long-contin- 
ued shouts of " Vive Lafayette ./" the softened multitude 
retired. 

Popularity and influence like this were dangerous gifts 
for a private citizen to possess. They excited the jeal- 
ousy of the chamber, which had just reaped the benefit 
of their exercise. And many of its members secretly 
resolved that, as soon as his services could be dispensed 
with, he should be driven to retirement. 

The discussion of the new constitution was arduous 
and exciting. It contained, like that which had just been 
set aside, the monarchical principle. It proposed to 
place the duke of Orleans on the throne, with the title 
of Louis Philippe V. To this Lafayette objected, as 
unworthy of a republican monarchy, which, he said, 
" ought to have nothing in common with the pretensions 
and tinsel show of the ancient kings of France." To 
which the duke himself replied, in writing, " You have 
gained your point — it shall be as you wish." Accord- 
ingly, after accepting the constitution, signing it with his 



THE REIGN OP LOUIS PHILIPPE. 389 

own hand, and swearing, in the presence of the people, 
to abide by and support it, he was crowned with the 
simple title of — Loii'ts Philippe, King of the French. 

On accepting the office of lieutenant-general, Louis 
Philippe had earnestly requested Lafayette to retain 
command of the National Guards of France. On as- 
cending the throne, this request was renewed. Believing 
that tlie re-organizalion of the citizen-army throughout 
the kingdom, was essential as a measure of defence and 
of public order, he consented to serve, provisionally, till 
that organization should be completed, though still 
believing, as in 1790, that, as a permanent office, it con- 
ferred too much power to be safely wielded by one man. 
At the name of their general, the National Guards rose 
up and organized themselves, in all places, as if by en- 
chantment, till they numbered seventeen hundred thou- 
sand — an army of volunteer freemen, under officers of 
their own choosing, and full of ardor and pati'iotism. 

On the 29th of August, fifty-two battalions of this cit- 
izen army, numbering sixty thousand men, perfectly 
armed and equipped, and exhibiting in all their move- 
ments the most beautiful military precision, presented 
themselves in the Champ de Mars, to receive their col- 
ors from the hand of the king. It was a brilliant and 
imposing spectacle. Louis Philippe, overcome by his 
emotions, on receiving the homage of this mighty army, 
cordially embraced Lafayette, exclaiming — " This is 
dearer, far dearer to me than a coronation at Rheims." 
To which the troops and the immense crowd of people 
around responded, " Vive Ic roi ! vive Lafayette /'* 

In apparent unison with these acclamations, which 
blended the name of Lafayette, as a worthy comrade, 
with his, the new king expressed by word and by letter, 
the most enthusiastic admiration and confidence in the 
National Guards, and in their " patriarch commander," 

33* 



390 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

" Tell them," said he to Lafayette, " not only that they 
have surpassed my expectations, but that it is not possi- 
ble to express all the joy and happiness they have afforded 
me. A witness to the confederation of 1790, in this 
same Champ de Mars, a w^itness also of the gi'and effort 
of 1792, v^hen forty-eight battalions, raised vt^ithin three 
days, by the city of Paris, joined our army of Champagne. 
I am enabled to draw a comparison, and with transport 
I assure you, that what I have just witnessed, is infinitely 
superior to what I then considered so complete, and 
which our enemies found so formidable." In similar 
terms of admiration and gratitude, he spoke of Lafay- 
ette, of his exalted patriotism, and his eminent public 
services, inspiring the hope that in his future career, as 
king of the French, he would follow the example, and 
be guided by the counsels of the patriot, hero, and sage, 
who had contiibuted so largely to pave his way to the 
throne. 

Amid his accumulated cares, as commander-in-chief 
of the National Guards, Lafayette, though necessarily 
v/ith drawn, in a measure, from the political arena, did 
not lose sight of the great interests of humanity, and the 
claims of oppressed individuals. Among these, the 
rights of the colored citizen received his earliest atten- 
tion, in reference to which he obtained the definite dec- 
laration of the government, that " it regarded all citizens 
as perfectly equal, and admitted no inferiority, or supe- 
riority, founded on difference of color." 

With equal promptness, on his motion, the patriots 
condemned to imprisonment or exile for political offences, 
under the last BourbOn dynasty, were restored to their 
rights, by a general act of amnesty. Not satisfied with 
this, Lafayette collected them together, on their return, 
and presented them to the king. It was on an occasion 
when the saloons of the Palais Royal were filled with 



THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 391 

deputations from all parts of France. An aide-de-camp 
on duty announced, in a loud voice — " The gentlemen 
condemned for political ojfences /" and Lafayette, advan- 
cing at the head of them, said to the king — " Here are 
the political offenders ; they are presented to you by an 
accomplice." The king received them M^ith the most 
gracious affability, and expressing deep regret for the 
persecutions they had endured, promised them his warm- 
est interest in their behalf, and a speedy indemnification 
for all their sufferings — a promise, unhappily, like many 
other promises and pledges of the citizen-king, too soon 
forgotten. 

On the 4th of October, 1830, Belgium proclaimed its 
independence. In their earliest movements to this end, 
the patriots of Brussels opened a correspondence with 
Lafayette. In every successive step, they sought his 
counsel and aid. And, when their work of revolution 
was completed, and their independence openly declared, 
they sent a special embassy, requesting him to accept the 
chief-magistracy of the proposed republic. This high 
honor he modestly declined, recommending that they 
should choose one of their own citizens to be the head 
of the new government. And when, on more mature 
deliberation, a majority of the nation decided upon a 
republican monarchy, like that of France, they applied 
once more to Lafayette, and proffered him the crown. 
This he also unhesitatingly declined, adding that the only 
crown he could accept was a civic wreath. He knew 
and felt that even for the interests of liberty in other 
countries, he could be more useful in France than any- 
where else. The crown was then offered to the duke de 
Nemours, the second son of Louis Philippe. Regarding 
this choice as the free act of a sovereign people, Lafay- 
ette strenuously urged its acceptance. But, through the 
intrigues of Talleyi'and, that ubiquitous incaraation of 



392 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

diplomacy, who, to the surprise and chagi'in of all true 
Frenchmen, was just made ambassador to England, the 
throne of Belgium passed to other, perhaps abler hands. 
By the electric influence of France, the political ele- 
ments of Europe w^ere thrown into general agitation. 
Not only in Belgium, but in Poland, Italy, Germany, 
Spain, Portugal, Switzerland, there were signs, like the 
handwriting on the wall, not to be mistaken, though not 
often wisely interpreted by the Belshazzars of the con- 
tinent. In many of the centres of insurrection, " Vive 
Lqfayefie /" was the watchword at which the people rose 
against their oppressors. The advocates of legitimacy, 
or the divine right of kings, insisted upon the policy and 
propriety of interfering, to arrest the progress of revolu- 
tion and liberalism. Lafayette contended, constantly, 
and with great power, for the doctrine of non-interference, 
in its largest sense, which implied the double duty of 
leaving each nation free to choose its own form of gov- 
ernment, and its own rulers, and of protecting them in 
that right, hj preventing the interference of other pow- 
ers. Louis Philippe, and his council, already beginning 
to lean toward absolutism, were disposed to pursue a 
half-way course, under pretext of avoiding collision and 
war. They proposed to say to Austria, for example, 
" We do not consent to your interference in the affairs of 
Italy," and yet quietly to suffer Austria to trample Italy 
under her feet. In all these cases, and as often as the 
question came up, Lafayette was the bold, consistent, 
untiring, unanswerable, advocate of the cause of univer- 
sal liberty. By his eloquence and influence, the inde- 
pendence of the South American republics was ac- 
knowledged by France. By his influence and persua- 
sions, the timid policy of the council was so far modified, 
as to pledge the support of France to the patriot cause 
in Italy and in Belgium. An army-corps was actually 



THE REIGN OP LOUIS PHILIPPE. 393 

formed upon the Alps, to keep the Austrians in check, 
and to protect the progress of the popular movement in 
Italy ; and the courts of Vienna, Russia, Naples, and Tu- 
rin, were officially notified that France was determined 
to enforce, in that quarter, the full application of the doc- 
tiine of non-interference. The assurance that this was 
the established and unchangeable policy of the govern- 
ment, was thrice demanded by Lafayette, and thrice re- 
peated by the minister, in the chamber of deputies. The 
foiTiial and unqualified assent of the king was also ob- 
tained, in a private interview. How shamefully these 
fine promises were recalled, and this high and honorable 
ground abandoned, at the nod of the Holy Alliance, and 
in spite of every remonsti'ance from the heart of France, 
is already too well known. 

In all measures for the advancement of liberal views 
of government, Lafayette was the man of paramount in- 
fluence and importance, for he caiTied them, by the com- 
bined force of argument, truth, and personal popularity, 
against the secret desires and pui-poses of the govern- 
ment. Lafayette was France. He was so regarded by 
the oppressed in Europe. Deputation after deputation 
addressed their prayers to him, invoking, through him, 
the aid of France, to sustain them in their struggles for 
freedom. He was so regarded by the cabinets of Eu- 
rope. In more than one instance, they directed their di- 
plomatic agents to consult him confidentially, " to ascer- 
tain his personal intentions" with regard to the foreign 
policy of France. For the necessity of doing this, and 
for his uncompromising hostility to the views of the Holy 
Alliance, they feared and hated him, and actually made 
his removal from the councils of France, and from the 
command of the National Guards, an indispensable con- 
dition of further diplomatic relations with the French 
cabinet. He was so regarded by the king, and by the 



394 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

aristocracy whom the king was beginning to court. His 
exalted influence, his unlimited moral power over the 
people, was an inconvenient restraint upon their move- 
ments, which they secretly resolved to get rid of. But 
they were not yet prepared to part with him. A new 
storm was rising. There were "breakers ahead," 
which they clearly discerned in the distance. They felt 
the necessity of a skilful and experienced pilot, to guide 
them safely through. 

The ministers of Charles X. were about to be brought 
to trial, on a charge of high treason, as the authors of 
the edicts, and the instigators of the bloody scenes of July. 
The king regretted their arrest. He sincerely wished 
their escape from France. The people were excited 
to the highest pitch of phrensy against them. Im- 
patient, even of the fonns of law, they demanded their 
instant execution. All the disorganizing elements of a 
Parisian populace, stiiTed up and fomented by foreign 
intrigue, entered into and aggravated the embarrass- 
ments of the case. The voice of reason, and of justice, 
was drowned by the maniac cries of " Vengeance ! ven- 
geance .'" which rose, in incessant peals of fury, on every 
side. Lafayette, opposed, by principle, to capital pun- 
ishment, anxious that the glorious revolution should not 
be marred by one act of cruelty or injustice, and deter- 
mined, above all, to maintain, at every hazard, the maj- 
esty of law, and the inviolability of the trial by jury, 
stood between the accused and their accusers, not to de- 
fend them from merited punishment, but to secure to 
them a fair hearing, and an unbiased trial. It was a 
season of intense agitation and excitement, and all the 
hopes of the court were centred in Lafayette. 

The sudden change from distrust to confidence, from 
jealousy to respect, from low sarcasm to the most ful- 
some flattery, which was exhibited in the deportment of 



THE REIGN OP LOUIS PHILIPPE. 395 

the court toward the chief of the National Guards, " the 
unique man," as he was called, " whose virtues eclipsed 
the finest characters of antiquity," was truly amusing. 
As the piince royal said, who was witness to a great part 
of the comedy, " it was enough to make one die of laugh- 
ing." Lafayette's praise was on everybody's lips. His 
name was but a synonyme of loyalty, patriotism, and 
disinterestedness. His powers were prodigiously in- 
creased. The police of the Palais Royal, of the Lux- 
embourg, and of the chamber of peers, and the supreme 
command of the troops of the line, in addition to that of 
the National Guards, were exclusively confided to him, 
with unlimited discretionary powers. 

The trial commenced about the middle of December, 
It was like the sitting of a court in the crater of a volcano. 
The agitation and excitement were unparalleled, even in 
Paris. The judges, terror-stricken, hesitated to take 
their seats. It was only after the reiterated assurances 
of Lafayette, that he would answer, with his life, for the 
inviolability of their persons, that they ventured to open 
the proceedings. 

The people raged, but law triumphed. " Vast crowds 
collected in every point of the capital. The most violent 
tumults arose. The streets adjacent to the Luxembourg 
were filled by an insurgent mob. The close ranks of the 
battalions which defended the advance posts were bro- 
ken. The great gate of the palace was attacked. Fran- 
tic shouts resounded in the very tribunal. A few steps 
more on the part of the insurgents, and the sanctuary of 
justice would have been sullied by the blood of the ac- 
cused, and perhaps of their judges. The revolution 
would have been dishonored, and Heaven knows what 
stoi-ms might have gathered over France." 

Without a shot, without a blow, all this wild commo- 
tion was hushed, this maniac fury curbed, restrained, 



396 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

driven back, by the moral power of one man. Unarmed, 
unguarded, in company only of a few of his aids, Lafay- 
ette went forth into the midst of the mob, and addressed 
them. At the sight of his venerable figure, the tumult 
ceased. At the sound of his persuasive voice, the frantic 
multitude became calm, fell back, and retired from the 
scene, shouting, " Vi^e luofayette ,'" 

The name of that mob was Legion. Diverted from 
one point of attack, it broke out at another. But all 
points were alike guarded ; and, wherever danger was, 
there was Lafayette. The trial went on undisturbed. 
The sentence was pronounced, a sentence utterly at va- 
riance with the expectations of the people, and even of 
the army, by whom the people had been prevented from 
taking the law into their own hands. The whole nation 
demanded and expected a sentence of death. And when 
the sentence of perpetual imprisonment was announced, 
they regarded it as a virtual acquittal, and the whole trial 
as a mere farce, a mockery of the forms of justice. 

The agitation was now greater than ever, for it spread 
into the ranks of the National Guards. It seemed about 
to turn against the sanctuary of law, the very arm on 
which it relied for defence. The disaffection was exten- 
sive, and rapidly increasing on every side. The most 
disastrous consequences were apprehended. But the 
same mighty spell which had quelled the fury of the 
populace, disarmed the rage of the National Guards. 
Lafayette, by a few persuasive words, won them all back 
to discipline and order. He even intrusted that same 
guard with the care of the prisoners, to convey them 
back, in open day, through the ranks of an exasperated 
populace, to the prison of Vincennes. 

The crisis passed. Law triumphed. Order and tran- 
quillity were fully restored. The king, the cabinet, the 
chambers, were in transports of gratitude to Lafayette, 



THE REIGN OP LOUIS PHILIPPE. 397 

whose prudence, wisdom, energy, and patriotic devotion, 
they could not find words adequately to commend. But 
personal gratitude is often a burdensome obligation. 
The exalted popularity of Lafayette, and their indebted- 
ness to his unbounded influence, was an absolute incubus 
upon the selfishness of the court. The danger which 
threatened them was over, and jealousy, private and 
official, aided by foreign intrigue, returned to its work 
of detraction. It was artfully represented that Lafayette 
was greater than the king — that Louis Philippe was 
only a tool in the hands of the dictator-general. The 
most insidious caricatures were distributed even in the 
palace, representing the king standing in the presence 
of Lafayette, with the crown in his hand, and Lafayette 
saying, " Sire, be covered." Some of the deputies styled 
him "■the mayor of the palace.'''' The court was well 
disposed to listen to these insinuations. It sighed for 
more of the splendor of a court, for royal etiquette, for 
an hereditary aristocracy, and for confidential diplomatic 
relations with all the cabinets of Europe. To the for- 
mer, Lafayette was the persevering enemy, the most 
formidable obstacle. The latter, though sought for by 
the most humiliating sacrifice of personal and national 
dignity, was peremptorily refused, except upon the con- 
dition of the dismissal of Lafayette from his high com- 
mand, and from his paramount influence in the councils 
of France. 

On the 23d of December, the thanks of the chambers 
were voted to the National Guard, and " its illustrious 
chiefs for their recent eminent services in quelling the 
popular insuiTection. On the 24th, that " illustrious 
chieP' was, in the most insulting and cowardly manner, 
dismissed from his command. This was done by a prop- 
osition to abolish the office of commander-in-chief of the 
National Guard. It was ably but vainly opposed. The 
34 



398 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

court and the Holy Alliance demanded it. Their feel- 
ings were all embodied in these words of Charles Du- 
pin — "General Lafayette can not remain all his life the 
living law, unless the political law be defunct." 

While these discussions were going on, Lafayette was 
at his headquarters, anxiously watching over the peace 
of the city. On being informed of the proceedings, he 
immediately sent in his resignation to the king. The 
king, professing ignorance, surprise, and grief, requested 
an interview. He seemed vexed and distressed for what 
had passed, assured the general that the proposition had 
not passed into a law, and urged him to withdraw his 
resignation. Lafayette persisted, and availed himself 
of the opportunity to say, with his accustomed frankness, 
that he was not satisfied with the policy of the cabinet. 
They were already departing from the liberal bases of 
July. The interests of liberty were at hazard. " I 
should not be acting with sincerity," said he, " if I should 
remain longer, like an opaque body, between the people 
and the government. When I retire from my post, every 
one will better see on what he has to depend." 

The National Guard and the people were indignant 
at this treatment of their venerated chief. Their indigna- 
tion would probably have assumed a formidable shape, 
had not Lafayette, with a patriotic devotion which was 
ever superior to personal considerations, poured oil upon 
the troubled waters. He addressed them in terms of 
the most affectionate gratitude, demanding of them, as 
the last and only proof of their regard for him, redoubled 
activity and zeal in the maintenance of peace and order. 
The court, in the meantime, expressed publicly the most 
profound sorrow, and even the chamber, which, on the 
24th, had voted his dismissal, declared, on the 28th, that 
" the illustrious chief of the National Guard had resigned 
his functions in spite of their entreaties." 



THE REIGN OF LOUIS PHILIPPE. 399 

When this farce was over, a charge was presented, 
like that by which the patriotic and gifted Lamartine is 
now cast into temporary eclipse, representing Lafayette 
as " implicated in the recent disturbances," as " having a 
secret understanding with the insurgents," by which alone 
the corrupt court could account for his influence over 
them. To these charges, he deigned not a word of reply. 
They passed by him "like the idle wind." They fell, 
blunted and harmless, at his feet, turned off from their 
mark by an impenetrable shield of conscious and invul- 
nerable integrity. 

Lafayette remained at his post in the chamber of dep- 
uties. He saw and deeply lamented the reti'ograde ten- 
dency of the new government, its rapid strides toward a 
revival of that very despotism which the revolution of July 
had thrown off. Doubtless he saw, in the vista of years 
the revolution of February, the flight of the citizen-king, 
and the republic of 1848. "I know," said he, one day, 
to Louis Philippe, " I know only one man who can bring 
France to a republic, and you are that man." — "Wait 
till such a time," replied the king, "and you will see." — 
•' Waitl" resumed Lafayette, " but are you sure you will 
reign till then ? For my part, I doubt it." The precise 
time referred to by the king is not known. But recent 
events have justified the far-sighted sagacity of the re- 
publican instincts of Lafayette. Louis Philippe is no 
longer king of the French. The throne on which he 
sat is destroyed ; and France, it is to be hoped, has made 
her last experiment with royalty. 



400 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

CLOSING SCENES AND DEATH. 

Though rejected by the court, as "a stiff old republi- 
can ;" though cast off by the king as a troublesome Men- 
tor, to whom he owed too much, Lafayette lost nothing 
of the confidence and affection of the people. They 
still looked up to him with filial reverence and admira- 
tion. Wherever he went, he was greeted as the patri- 
arch of freedom. In April, 1831, as he entered the hall 
of one of the tribunals in Paris, to which he was cited 
as a witness, the members of the bar, the jury, and the 
people present, rose and saluted him. When he retired, 
they showed him the same mark of respect. 

At the funeral of General Lamarque,,in June, 1832, 
an immense multitude, of every grade of society, assem- 
bled to do honor to the illustrious dead. It was more 
like a triumphal, than a funereal procession. It com- 
menced, even at the doors of the house of mourning, 
with shouts of " Vive la liberie ! vive Lafayette V The 
enthusiasm of the people alarmed the court. The guards 
were ordered out, to keep the peace. A collision en- 
sued. Blood was shed ; and two days, during which 
many lives were lost, were required to restore order to 
the capital. Lafayette, who was on foot, following the 
funeral car, as a mourner, left the scene as soon as the 
ceremonies of interment were completed. Not finding 
his own carriage readily, he entered a coach, with his 



EMEUTE IN PARIS. 401 

son George, and directed the driver to take the shortest 
route to his hotel. But the people, who had followed 
him in great numbers, immediately detached the horses 
from the coach, and, in spite of his remonstrances and 
entreaties, persisted in drawing him home, in triumph. 
Shouts of " Vive Lafai/ette ! vive la rcpuhlique /" rose 
on every side. The combat had begun. A numerous 
crowd, gathering round the vehicle, and excited to the 
hio-hest pitch of exasperation, begged that he would suf- 
fer them to carry him to the Hotel de Ville. Had he 
consented, they would once more have installed him in 
his high command, as the leader of a new revolution. 
But he rejected the proposal, and implored them, for his 
sake, to disperse peaceably. At this moment a charge 
was made in that quarter by a detachment of dragoons. 
Turning suddenly off to the right, with the coach, his 
devoted attendants withdrew from the scene of conflict, 
and bore him safely home, making the streets resound, as 
they went, with acclamations for Lafayette, and the re- 
public. A single word from him would have been the 
siofnal for a g^eneral revolt. 

His retirement from the funeral cortege had been un- 
observed by the greater part of his friends ; and* he soon 
became the object of the most lively solicitude. The 
most extravagant and contradictory rumors were circu- 
lating among the multitude. In one place, it was con- 
fidently asserted that the insurgents had conducted him 
to the Hotel de Ville, where he was presented, in open 
rebellion, as the head of a new government. In another, 
it was declared, with equal confidence, that his body, 
pierced with wounds, was being carried through the 
streets by the republicans, who were instigating the peo- 
ple to vengeance. In yet another, it was affirmed that 
the government had arrested him, and thrown him into 
the dungeon of Vincennes. The palace was in the ut- 
34* 



402 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

most consternation. Eighty thousand troops were called 
out to quell the supposed insurrection. The arrest of 
Lafayette, as the instigator of a treasonable plot, was 
proposed, but prudently abandoned. Paris was placed 
in a state of siege, and the popular monarchy, not yet 
two years old, entrenched itself behind a hundred thou- 
sand bayonets, and an immense park of artillery, against 
this tumultuous movement of the sovereign people. 

Guizot had already acquired that paramount influence 
in the counsels of the court which made its ruin inevit- 
able. Quern deus vult perdere, prius dementat. Lafay- 
ette, seconded by Lafitte, Arago, Garnier-Pages, Odillon 
Barrot, Dupont de I'Eure, and others of the same high 
order, were already arrayed in that firm, consistent, pa- 
triotic opposition, of which some of them, after seven- 
teen years of unwavering resistance, are now permitted 
to see the triumphant issue. To this opposition, Lafay- 
ette bent all the moral force of his genius and his mighty 
influence. To this he consecrated the unabated energy 
of a green old age, the accumulated practical wisdom of 
threescore and sixteen years, the force of an untarnished 
name, and a world-wide popularity and renown. He 
labored in hope, confident that, though unexpectedly de- 
layed, the end was at hand. 

With him, the end ivas at hand — the end of earthly 
hope, and toil, and glory. Overcome by fatigue and ex- 
posure, consequent upon attending the funeral of a young 
friend, on the 2d of February, 1834, he was violently 
attacked with ischury, to which he was predisposed. 
This was followed by other unfavorable symptoms, from 
all of which he so far recovered as to be able to take the 
air, and receive some of his friends, by multitudes of 
whom his house was constantly besieged, anxious to see 
his face, or at least to inquire for his health. On the 9th 
of May, in taking his usual ride, he was exposed to a 



HIS DEATH. 403 

sudden thunder-storm, and a cold northwest wind, which 
brought on a relapse, with greatly-aggravated symptoms. 
His sufferings, during the eleven days that followed, were 
very severe. But he bore them with admirable fortitude 
and serenity. He had a strong hope of recovery. Hav- 
ing, however, on the third day before his death, expressed 
some doubts of the result, he paused a few moments, as 
-if in thought, and then said — "What would you have] 
life is like the flame of a lamp ; when the oil is out, the 
light is extinguished, and all is over." He died on the 
morning of the 20th of May, wanting three months and 
sixteen days of completing his seventy-seventh year. 

The tidings of his death threw a deep gloom over the 
gay city, which was felt in every part of France. The 
nation mourned. The people wept. All ranks, all par- 
ties, strove together, to do reverence to the illustrious 
dead. His remains were conveyed to the tomb with the 
highest civil and military honors, attended not only by 
the people in a body, and the National Guard, but by 
the high officers of the crown, the legislative chambers, 
the academies, the schools, the representatives of foreign 
governments, resident strangers, all, enemies as well as 
friends, anxious to testify their respect for pre-eminent 
virtue. The bells of Paris tolled a mournful requiem. 
The bells of all France, of Belgium, of Switzerland, of 
Italy, of Poland, of England, of Ireland, of Scotland, 
sent back an answering tone of national and individual 
grief; while, from across the broad Atlantic, the solemn 
wail of fifteen millions of bereaved freemen, rose on the 
breeze, like the mourning of the Israelites at Abel- 
Mizraim. In all lands, the language of eulogy was ex- 
hausted in attempts to portray his worth, and estimate 
the gi-eatness of the world's loss in his death. The most 
eminent statesmen, the most eloquent orators of the age, 
made his character the theme of their praises. 



/"' 



404 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

The person and the ordinary dress of Lafayette are 
exceedingly well represented in most of the engraved 
likenesses which are known in America. He was tall, 
well-proportioned, and strongly bnilt. His head was 
large, his face oval with regular features, and an ample 
forehead. His eyes, of a grayish blue, were large, prom- 
inent, expressive, and full of kindness. His mouth, to 
which a smile seemed natural, had, at the same time, an 
expression of firmness. His complexion was clear. The 
whole expression of his countenance exhibited a blending 
of benevolence and frankness — a benevolence that knew 
no bounds, a frankness that knew no disguise. Notwith- 
standing his life of toil, exposure, and sufi'ering, and the 
scenes of turbulence and anxiety he had passed through, 
his temperament was so equable, his disposition so calm 
and gentle, that, at the age of seventy-seven, his face 
was not marked by a single furrow. His deportment 
was noble and dignified, his manners easy, graceful, and 
winning, his voice agreeable and of great capacity, his 
style of conversation natural and unrestrained. His 
habits were simple and regular. In his diet he was ab- 
stemious and temperate, eating moderately, and seldom 
drinking anything but water. 

He set a great value upon time, regarding it as " a 
gift, which he was not at liberty to lose himself, and still 
less to occasion the loss of to others." He never wasted 
time in social games, or other " innocent pastimes," as 
they are called. Though generally humorous, and often 
witty in conversation, he never descended to trivial ex- 
pressions, nor indulged in the profane and vulgar phrases, 
so common even in what is termed polite society. He loved 
truth above all things, and could not allow himself, even 
in jest, to make the slightest approach to falsehood. Con- 
sequently, his word commanded the highest respect, from 
enemies, as well as from friends. It was never called in 



HIS CHARACTER. 405 

question. He never contracted an engagement except 
after mature reflection, but his promise once given was 
never broken. He was extremely scrupulous on points 
of probity and honor in public aff"airs, and believed that, 
for the intercourse of nations as well as of individuals, 
"honesty was the best policy," and frankness and sin- 
cerity the truest wisdom. 

During his last illness, he was intensely interested in 
several questions that agitated the chamber of deputies, 
and earnestly desired the consent of his physicians to go 
and take part in the discussion. One of those questions 
related to the payment of the indemnity due to the Uni- 
ted States. He contended that the honor and dignity of 
France were pledged to the payment, and that it was as 
much her interest, as her duty, to discharge the claim ; 
for it was one of the maxims of his political creed, that 
with governments, no less than with individuals, duty and 
interest are inseparable. 

His benevolence was unbounded. Lagrange, with the 
district in which it stood, was witness to the largest ex- 
hibitions of this noble trait. In all that region, he was 
known, and familiarly spoken of, as " the people's friend." 
Two hundred pounds of bread, baked expressly for the 
poor, and of the same quality as that used by his family, 
were distributed every Monday. In times of scarcity, 
the quantity was often increased two and threefold, 
accompanied with a mess of soup for all who came. 
During the great scarcity in 1817, the distress at La- 
grange was excessive. The poor of the country, and of 
the neighboring villages, were fed at the chateau. There 
were not less than seven hundred applicants for relief 
daily, who received soup, bread, and money. By this 
lavish bounty, the funds of tke family, and the granaries 
of the farm were exhausted before the end of the season. 
A family council was held, the result of which was that 



406 LIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

the whole family, at the suggestion of Lafayette, removed 
to Chavagniac, giving up to the poor v^^hat they w^ould 
otherwise have consumed, and thus eking out their sup- 
plies till the coming harvest. 

During the prevalence of the cholera, in 1832, Lafay- 
ette, in spite of the remonstrances and entreaties of his 
fi'iends, hastened to Lagrange, w^ith all his family, to ad- 
minister to the wants of his poor neighbors. He took 
with him physicians, medicines, and all needful ap- 
pliances. He went from house to house, comforting the 
sick, encouraging their friends, and setting an example 
of courage and devotion, which was of infinite service to 
the panic-stricken peasants. The cost of these noble 
efforts exceeded seven thousand dollars. 

Lafayette was ambitious. But his ambition had no 
stain of selfishness. Regencies, dictatorships, crowns, 
were repeatedly offered him, and urged upon his accep- 
tance. But he sought only the welfare of mankind. He 
desired the good of the whole. He preferred his family 
to himself, his country to his family, and mankind to his 
country. His ambition was but a world-embracing be- 
nevolence. Reputation, glory, he held in high estimation. 
He aspired to the praise of men. But it was a reputa- 
tion for truth and goodness — the glory of always doing 
right, that he aimed to secure. And he preferred infin- 
itely the approbation of his own conscience to the favor 
and praise of the world. 

There was a beautiful adjustment, a perfect balance, 
in his intellectual faculties. He was gifted with a quick 
apprehension, profound judgment, strong powers of rea- 
soning and combination, a lively imagination, inexhausti- 
ble invention, a retentive and ready memory, uncommon 
decision and firmness, associated with uncommon pru- 
dence and moderation, and a calm immovable self-pos- 
session, which was not less superior to the insidious ap- 



HIS CHARACTER. 407 

preaches of selfishness, than to the sudden assaults of 
fear and accident. His reading was extensive. His ac- 
quirements were large and various. His reflections 
were profound, and his conclusions thoroughly digested. 
His opinions were all his own. He yielded no allegiance to 
sect, to party, or to name. Amenable only to conscience, 
he exacted for himself, he demanded for all men, un- 
qualified independence of thought and opinion. 

The predominance of the moral and social elements, 
in the character of Lafayette, and the admirable sway 
they held over the whole man, is a phenomenon difficult 
to be understood by diplomatists and politicians. It is 
not strange that they who limit the evidences of greatness 
to a genius for conquest, or to the accumulation of wealth, 
and the acquisition of titles, and power, should fail to 
comprehend him, and underestimate his strength. To 
such, his character is an intellectual anomaly, which 
they can only explain by supposing in him a radical 
want of judgment and energy. Judging him by their 
own standard, which excludes conscience from a voice 
in public aff*airs, it was a foolish weakness in him to ac- 
knowledge its control. It was mental imbecility that 
held him back from grasping and retaining the power 
that was oflTered him. "He was incapable," say 
they, " of carrying out his own plans. He yielded to 
others what he might have controlled himself." True, 
in great national questions he yielded always to the will 
of the people, in whom he acknowledged all sovereignty 
resided. To resist that will would have been treason. 
Had the people, in their primary assemblies, elected him 
to the chief-magistracy, he would doubtless have accepted 
it. Unlike the majority of men in high places, his prac- 
tice always coiTesponded with his professions, his politi- 
cal actions with his. political creed. To opinion he op- 
posed only reason and persuasion, reserving for moral 



408 LIFE OP LAFAYETTE. 

crime, and the excesses of anarcliy, tlie arm of force, 
and the restraints and severities of law. It wa,s morally 
impossible that he should enact the dictator. He was 
above the petty ambition of power. A crown, a throne, 
the constrained homage of a nation or a world, which 
could fill and satisfy the highest aspirations of Alexander, 
of Caesar, of Napoleon, were utterly beneath his desire, 
too little for his thought. " It is a singular phenomenon," 
says Madame de Stael, who knew him intimately, " that 
a character like that of Lafayette should have been de- 
veloped among the higher ranks of French gentlemen." 

The late venerable John Quincy Adams, in his 
eloquent eulogy of Lafayette, said : " Pronounce him 
one of the first men of the age, and you have not yet 
done him justice. Try him by that test to which he 
sought in vain to stimulate the vulgar and selfish spirit 
of Napoleon; class him among the men, who, to com- 
pare and seat themselves, must take in the compass of 
all ages ; turn back your eyes upon the records of all 
time ; summon, from the creation of the world to this day, 
the mighty dead of every age and clime ; and where, 
among the race of merely mortal men, shall one be found, 
who, as a benefactor of his kind, shall claim to take pre- 
cedence of Lafayette V 

If to such noble qualities of heart and mind — such 
lofty patriotism, such exalted virtue, such faultless mo- 
rality — had been added the pure faith and sublime hopes 
of the gospel, nothing would have been wanting to com- 
plete the portraiture of a perfect Tnan. 



THE END. 



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